What Do You Have to Say About Loki
by curiositykilled
Summary: In which the Avengers find out that Loki's a family guy. Or something like that.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Because crap titles are cool. This is part of one of like three headcanons I have [not including Lullabies the Screams - because that's just nonsense], so hopefully I'll get the beginning section written some time because I like it a lot more**

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"What do you have to say about Loki's involvement with the Avengers?" the reporter demanded again, "How can you trust the villain who nearly destroyed Manhattan?"

Tony froze. He never froze – not in front of the press, not when he was alone – _never_. But this time, he just didn't have an answer. Maybe it was because he _didn't_ trust Loki – even though Thor claimed his brother was back to the world of the sane – and he didn't think any of them did. While he was pretty obviously not a psychopath trying to take over the world, he hadn't done much to remove those memories from the forefront of their minds. Sure, he helped them take down bad guys and hung out – _reluctantly_ – in the tower, but Loki was still cool, calculating, condescending _Loki_. Thor still sent him kicked-puppy eyes and everyone else did their utmost to avoid him, for the most part.

In the end, it was Clint who stepped forward – which maybe shouldn't have surprised them as much as it did. Loki himself stood loosely beside Thor – his brother wouldn't let him stand anywhere else, Tony assumed, and anyway, the rest of them would probably try to kill him or snap some magic-sapping handcuffs on him – with an amused glint in his jade eyes.

"Look, Loki's not an Avenger or anything like that, but he's, well – " he started, "I can't explain trust to you – it's….it's – you trust us even though you don't know half our names, don't know anything about us – you trust us because we're doing the right thing, and Loki's helping us do that."

Everyone was a little startled by this speech, because while Clint was neither mute nor stupid, he was a pretty laconic speaker. Even when he was forced to answer questions at press conferences, he kept the replies as concise as possible. The press itself seems a little subdued, and it wasn't too long till the Avengers and Loki were able to return to the tower.

Tony wasn't overly surprised when the two Asgardians didn't come back with everyone; as soon as the crowd had started to disperse, Loki had shifted into a plain looking young man in casual clothes and magicked Thor's armor into street clothes as well. While he still wasn't really comfortable with the whole 'Loki could be anyone anywhere' aspect of Loki's shape shifting, Tony was just a little jealous that he could slip into any skin to avoid recognition. Not that he minded the pomp of being Tony Stark, but sometimes he, too, wanted a little privacy. Especially after that whole debacle with the Mandarin and the ensuing destruction of his home on international television. That had pretty effectively destroyed his one and only haven.

That said, he still didn't trust Loki not to at least try to taunt Thor, so it was with no hesitation that he ordered JARVIS to connect to any camera in the city that had seen incognito Thor and Loki. It was only a moment before he found them on a bench in a park, and he listened and watched through the perspective of a camera SHIELD had decided to tuck into a nearby tree. Tony reckoned that he should have been surprised – that a top secret government agency posting surveillance cameras in city parks should not be totally normal to him – but both Steve and Thor made frequent trips to this particular park, so there was little surprise.

"JARVIS, what are they saying?" Tony called, leaning back in his swivel chair.

The two gods were conferring casually between themselves as Loki fed a pigeon out of his hand – Tony didn't even want to know how the pigeon or the bird food got there – and Thor leaned back with his legs outstretched, but they were very definitely not speaking English.

"They are speaking in an Asgardian tongue, sir. Translating now," the AI responded mildly.

"-rtable with me around," Loki was saying.

"No one, save perhaps Mother and I, is comfortable with you around, brother," Thor yawned, "Even Odin."

A grin flickered across the other man's face – he was still the leggy, disjointed redhead he'd shifted into, but his expressions were identical to the normal Loki's – and he chucked the pigeon gently under its beak. _Somewhere_, Tony thought, _there is a punch line to this joke: a god and a giant sit in a park…_

"The enthrallment is lingering."

The way Thor said it was a mixture of question and statement, and Loki made no response for a moment save for his lips tightening. Back in the tower, Tony had leaned forward in surprise; Clint had only talked at length about being under Thanos' – and thus Loki's – control when he was explaining that Loki hadn't exactly been the grand maestro of the 'Tesseract Incident.' Then, Loki lightly flipped and flexed his hand and the pigeon took the hint to fly off. He didn't straighten but remained with his elbows on his thighs and forearms hanging limply.

"Your reputation does you wrong, brother; you are sharp as a tack," he snipped dryly.

Thor's face may have darkened slightly, but Tony was pretty sure it was because of his brother's evasion and not the dig; they'd all come to terms with the fact that Loki communicated through snarks and jabs. If he was being genuinely caring, Thor had warned them, then Loki was either drunk or lying.

"Loki…" the blonde god warned.

"Yes, the spell's effects are lingering despite…_his_ death," Loki snapped, "So far as I can tell, neither of us are being influenced by anything; we are merely more aware of each other. When one of us experiences strong emotion, it is relayed to the other."

"I don't imagine that's enjoyable for either of you," Thor mused, his cornflower eyes distant.

Much as he hated to admit it, Loki's strongest feelings were inevitably those of rage and hurt; only if he showed one of those emotions could Thor know that he was not bluffing. Loki didn't bother replying; he was intensely focused on his own slim fingers as he slowly unclenched them.

"How close are you to unraveling it?" Thor finally asked.

"Within a week, I would think," his brother shrugged noncommittally.

Thor nodded and let it drop.

"How is Sigyn?" he asked.

Tony sighed and leaned back in his chair. He didn't recognize the name, but it sounded pretty definitely Asgardian and he wasn't in the mood for some otherworldly gossip or catch-up time. The thing about the mind control, however, had him a little concerned. He probably would have to tell Coulson about that at least, he mused as he pulled up specs of his latest suit.

"She is well," Loki replied with a faint smile.

"And Vali?" Thor prompted.

Loki leaned back now so that his shoulder just brushed against Thor's. Even slight as Loki was, the two gods together took up the entire bench.

"Demanding a brother," the trickster chuckled, "I am certainly glad to be missing that."

Only half paying attention to the conversation now, Tony caught the faint hint of hurt that fluttered across Thor's open face and suppressed his own wince. Loki may have dropped the whole killing Thor business, but he still wasn't overly convinced of the greatness of brothers.

"When was the last time you saw them?" he inquired cautiously before adding as Loki's lips quirked, "Actually saw them."

And wasn't that a weird condition. _Please say he doesn't make illusions like imaginary fuck buddies_, Tony found himself begging. He, as well as a few other teammates – read: Steve and Natasha – had noticed that Loki occasionally appeared in the mornings with a hint of shadow under his eyes and a half-contented grin on his lips. They'd all theorized, but…no. _Just please, no._

This time, Tony did see the tightness that appeared on Loki's face. The god abruptly shifted back to his usual, raven-haired form though he still wore the grey t-shirt and dark jeans. Tony couldn't help himself from being relieved that this form kept its glamour at all times; he had strong stomach, but the one time Loki's glamour had briefly fallen and revealed all his scars, the billionaire – as well as two other members of the team – had promptly been ill. He wasn't eager to get a repeat viewing.

"His first name day," Loki answered tersely.

Thor blew air out in a surprised breath and ran his hand through his blonde locks. Tony was still confused, but the strange reactions had distracted him from his armor, and he now simply sat watching.

"Norns, Loki – why do you not allow them to visit?" he demanded, "You know they are under my protection and none would dare harm them."

"For once, I think my protection more secure than yours," Loki replied, "So long as they are home, they are saved from the trouble I bring."

"And yet they pine for their husband and father!" Thor rumbled.

_'Husband and father'? Waait. No._ Tony had been too distracted by the gods' conversation to even notice as Bruce shuffled in, and it was only when Bruce inhaled sharply at this last revelation that Tony glanced up.

"My other children have…done well enough without my presence," Loki replied, faltering slightly.

It didn't take the God of Lies to call that one. Bruce tilted his head slightly with a curious frown furrowing his brow.

"Loki, please, let them come see you if you will not go to them," Thor pleaded, "or I will intercede."

Loki's green eyes sharpened as they jerked to Thor.

"You would not," he growled.

"For the sake of you and yours, then I would be hard pressed to find anything I wouldnot do," Thor retorted, "The Avengers are unlikely to pose any resistance to your family visiting, and if it comforts you, lie. Say she is our sister or cousin or some nonsense."

"And there will be no questions posed when Vali inevitably calls me 'father'," Loki pointed out dryly.

"Hey, Stark can – wait, are you spying on Thor and Loki?" Clint demanded, and if there was a bit more resignation than surprise in his voice, well maybe this wasn't the first time.

"Did you know Loki was married? And had kids – as in plural?" Tony asked in reply.

Clint flinched slightly at this abrupt question and scowled. He _hadn't_, but... While under thrall, he'd been quite cognizant of a part of Loki that was seemingly just…gone. It was as if someone had waltzed into his mind and either stripped away that section or – more likely, from what Clint had gathered – neatly stitched a perfect camouflage over it so that Loki – and anyone who got into his head – couldn't see what was underneath.

"Clint?" Bruce prompted softly.

"Huh? No," the archer retorted, jerked out of his thoughts.

"Uh huh," Tony snorted doubtfully.

"Fuck you, Stark," Clint muttered, moving to watch over Tony's shoulder.

Loki was rubbing his cheek and sending a baleful glare in Thor's direction, and the thunder god looked as if he was about to summon Mjolnir to knock some sense into his brother. Tony found himself extremely thankful that there were only the birds as witnesses to this exchange; he could handle a few fried feathers if one of the gods got out of hand, but fried people? Not so good for PR.

"Very well. Bring them to Jane's home, and you will be able to avoid the Avengers," Thor grumbled, his voice echoed by distant thunder.

"Huh. That doesn't sound good," Bruce remarked, oh-so-helpfully.

"She's not like some crazy con lady is she? Or a giant – what if she's like thirty feet tall? Fuck, that would be awkward; Loki's s'posed to be a fucking giant and he'd come to her ankle," Clint murmured, eyes slightly too wide as he picture this behemoth.

"From Thor and Loki's comments about giants, I'd be a _little_ surprised if he was married to one," Bruce answered wryly.

"Why the hell are they avoiding us? If they're not planning something… Fuck, I _told_ Fury not to trust the little shit," Tony hissed.

"I don't think Thor would go along with one of Loki's plots..."Bruce glanced worriedly at his fellow Avenger, "Jane's place is probably a lot less overwhelming for Loki's family, and there's a way lower chance of the press catching wind."

Knowing he was right, Tony glowered at the now empty bench on screen and willed it to either burst into flames or give him answers. JARVIS cut his wishing short, though, by announcing 'the Odinssons' return, and Clint's gaze flicked up; Loki had made it clear that he _was not_ Odin's son – nor was he Laufey's, of course, which left them with a serious lack of last name. It was a little awkward.

"Got it," Tony muttered, snapping closed the surveillance window before frowning slightly and glancing up at the other two men, "Why are you guys down here anyway?"


	2. Chapter 2

"My brother and I are planning to journey to my Lady Jane's on the morrow. We should return within a fortnight," Thor announced later that evening.

Standing just to the side and behind Thor, Loki wore his usual blank mask and too-tight posture, but that was nothing new; half the time it seemed like the trickster was just waiting for fallout to come raining down on his head. Bruce turned from the game of BS he was rapidly losing to Natasha, Clint and Coulson to settle his steady gaze on Tony, who'd hunched further down into his chair, tablet lifted to hide his face. Pepper, perched on the arm of Tony's chair, looked up from her magazine with more than a hint of surprise as well.

"Oh. That's sudden," Steve commented, startled.

His book was momentarily forgotten as he laid it down on his lap with one hand still on his page.

"I have been absent from her for longer than I desire," Thor explained, shifting his weight slightly, "and Loki has not had a chance to see much of Midgard during our stay."

Immediately, Natasha's eyes narrowed and her gaze flicked quickly to Loki's face, but she'd never really figured out any of his tells. Whatever they were, they certainly were not so obvious as Thor's nervous shifting.

"Of course. Please tell Dr. Foster hello from all of us as well," Pepper soothed warmly.

"Fuck it. Your family can stay here," Tony announced, dropping the tablet into his lap.

Both Thor and Loki stiffened, and if she weren't herself startled, Natasha would have been smugly pleased to see an untrained reaction out of the mischievous god. The rest of those not in the know – read: Steve and Pepper – shared a flummoxed glance before turning to Tony.

"Whose family?" Steve queried.

Loki had glanced across at Thor, and seeing his startlement plainly, let out a quiet sigh. At least Thor hadn't tried his occasionally ham-fisted diplomacy this time.

"My wife and son," he clarified for the bemused members of the team, "Thor is insistent upon their visiting and thought Jane's home to be a more suitable environment."

"Wife?" Natasha asked, genuine surprise showing on her face.

"Yes?" Loki answered, wondering why that of everything that had been said caused the most surprise.

Natasha wasn't at all taken aback by Loki's apparent kids; although neither god ever mentioned his children, most of the team had taken the time to look up Norse mythology and discuss the likelihood of Fenrir, Hela, Jormugandr and most especially Sleipnir actually existing. It was just…Loki was a shapeshifter – he could and did switch between genders and species without a thought. Settling down didn't seem like his thing.

"I just…" she trailed off before fishing out her wallet and laying a bill into Clint's expectant hand.

"There is no need, Stark," Thor started, finally regaining his voice, "Jane is 'more than happy' to receive us."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll hide in my lab or whatever; you don't need to travel across the country just to get away from me," Tony muttered.

"Stark, I teleport and Thor flies. My family will be traveling across realms," Loki commented dryly, "I hardly think a few hundred miles is a problem."

"I just… Why doesn't Jane come here?" Steve suggested.

Loki shifted slightly, flexing his hand idly. His gaze had shifted to Thor who was even antsier than previously though his younger brother was placid-faced and unreadable. Having taken one glance at his younger brother, Thor had had to quickly quell the worry that burnt up his throat; that twitch was one that generally only showed up right before Loki set something on fire or magically dismantled the most complicated object he could find.

"I…am not certain that that would be in the best interests of anyone," Thor responded cautiously.

"Why not? Dr. Foster has her labs here, the Avengers can keep anyone from coming near Loki's family and we won't have to worry about a catastrophe occurring while the both of you are in New Mexico," Coulson piped up, "So long as you aren't planning something while out of the Avengers' custody."

As he studied Loki in his flat, apathetic way, the trickster's face darkened almost imperceptibly.

"I do not care for your insinuations, son of Coul," Thor rumbled, his own fingers itching for Mjolnir's comforting grip, "My brother desires to see his wife and son; there is hardly anything nefarious about that."

"Then why can't he see his wife and son here? Or on Asgard?" Steve queried, though his voice was much more genuine than Coulson's cool skepticism.

Loki's jaw tightened ever so slightly as he replied, "My family no longer lives on Asgard."

Natasha's sharp gaze widened slightly in understanding and she leaned back into her hands, the card game long forgotten.

"You're afraid Odin will hurt them to hurt you," she murmured.

"There are…certain prophecies of the like, yes," Loki conceded stiffly.

"I still don't get why they can't come here," Steve objected, "It's not like we'd let Odin come down and steal them away."

"I did not wish to impose on Tony's hospitality, and Jane's home seemed a better fit for Sigyn and Vali," Thor offered, still picking his words delicately.

"We could all go to New Mexico," Clint suggested, but that was immediately ignored.

"_Is _there any reason why Stark Tower is inappropriate for your family's vacation?" Coulson prompted.

A slow sigh and then Loki glanced over at Thor, apparently silently yielding.

"Very well. I will call my Lady Jane; Loki – oh," the thunderer cut himself off with little surprise as Loki just vanished.

"Where the hell'd he go now?" Tony demanded.

"Mm," Thor was quiet, his eyes briefly distant, "I imagine with Ratatoskr."

"Okay, what kind of Pokémon is that?" Tony sighed, leaning back.

"A squirrel, right?" Bruce checked.

Thor, for his part, paused a moment to look contrite.

"I believe that is how he was described many a year ago," he agreed, "but it – never mind. He is a messenger along the trunk of Yggdrasil."

"O…kay," Clint offered uncertainly.

Before anyone could ask for more of an explanation, Loki reappeared beside Thor. His green eyes were distant and Tony had the feeling that if he looked closely he would see something not emerald and gleaming but dark and star-filled and far too yawning to be eyes. Blinking, Loki quickly ran a slender hand over his face and caught himself just before he stumbled.

"Brother?" Thor queried worriedly, but Loki offered a thin, not-quite-there smile and waved the concern away.

"Sigyn agreed to meeting in Stark Tower in one week's time," he announced tiredly, _and shouldn't he have sounded even a _little_ happy?_


	3. Chapter 3

It could be worse. It could definitely be worse – but Tony was, admittedly, having a hard time coming up with a worse situation than being trapped under the ruins of a skyscraper with a half-dead Norse god keeping the rubble from crushing him and lunar craters in his suit. For once, his light-year-a-second brain just couldn't fathom a less appealing situation than the current one. The green shield crackled briefly, causing the rubble to shift and Loki's jaw to clench tighter in pain as the I-beam sunk deeper into his gut.

"So uh you and Thor've gotten into worse scrapes than this, right? I mean, hunting dragons or uh – what were they? – bil-somethings? Mere mortal buildings are nothing, right?" Tony rambled, painfully aware of the heightened pitch of his voice.

"Not, generally, with a damn metal rod - " Loki broke off with a ragged cough, blood reddening his lips in splattered drops.

"Uh-huh. And you can't heal yourself _and_ keep us from getting flattened into roadkill?" Tony checked.

The comm was silent at the moment, which wasn't really helping Tony's twitchy anxiety. There was a lot of blood in the small cavity – more than he thought even gods should really be coughing up. Despite his desperate attempts to stay calm, Tony could feel the sweat building behind the hot confines of his helmet and running down his body.

"I. Am," Loki ground out.

"Oh. Oh shit," Tony breathed.

Loki never left a battle with even a scratch; even after a particularly wicked fight, he might have to catch his breath or mend tattered clothes, but his ivory skin was never marked. Now, though, the cuts and bruises along his body were untended as faint green sparks flickered uselessly around the metal rod. They'd already been through the teleporting route – Loki had sighed as much as he was able as he not-so-patiently explained that teleportation took concentration – something he was 'rather lacking at the moment' – and were now pretty solidly stuck until their teammates arrived.

"Ton—Tony," Steve's frantic voice broke through the static-y communicator, "Are y- -ere? –ming. Hold on."

"Hey, Spangle Pants. Me an' Lokes are breathing and all, but you should probably hurry up or Thor's going to be short one little, batshit crazy brother," Tony summed up.

There was a pause, and then they could both hear Thor without aid of the comm, though only Loki could understand what the Thunderer was saying. Tony could at least decipher that it was a lot of profanity from at least two different languages. Loki's hands, braced against the green shield, were trembling, and when his eyes flickered open they were no longer the gleaming emeralds Tony was used to seeing. Instead, there was a star-scorched blackness that reminded Tony way the hell too much of his own trip into the space between worlds.

"Loki? It- it's going to be okay. Your brother's going to get here and dig us out, and then you two will go back to hating each other – well, I mean, you hat-"

"Stark," Loki's voice was low and hoarse and his eyes once again green, "If you don't shut. Your. Mouth. I will be more than happy to drop this cement onto you just for the silence."

_Hint taken._ Tony settled back into the rubble, JARVIS more or less useless at the moment. Much as his mouth ached to chatter and antagonize and just relieve this idiotic stress, he had enough sense to get that it was probably for the best if he did just sit back and wait either to be killed or rescued. Aside from the occasional hiss or pain or crackle of magic, Loki, too, was silent and they simply waited for what seemed far too long.

_Maybe someone else showed up – Doom would be more than happy… Those robots were scary as fuck – how'd we get here anyway…?_ Tony's rambling thoughts were cut short by a saturated gasp and sharp 'fuck' from Loki (had it been any other situation, Tony would have had a heyday with that oh-so-eloquent interjection) as their cavity suddenly seemed a lot smaller.

"Stark – if you get out," the god hissed, "don't let Thor do anything…stupid."

Then the world came crashing down.

Later, Tony would be able to translate the next moments as him rolling to crouch over as much of Loki as he could before he felt a strong hand grab the back of his armor and yank. Next, Loki's limp body was dragged out of the hole, and the entire team was knocked back. Sure, they dealt with death all the time – but this was different. Loki may have been their original enemy, but he'd been doing a damn good job of making it up to everyone.

"Fuck. Fucking shit," Clint swore, crouching immediately to try to staunch the blood from Loki's gaping wound.

"Where the hell's Banner?" Tony snapped, flicking up his faceplate.

"—ming. Are there any SHIELD teams on call?" Steve called through the communicator.

"ETA five minutes." Natasha's voice, as cool and professional as ever.

Only Thor was silent, moving only to gently pull Tony and Clint away from his fallen brother. His face was placid, even with a faint hint of a smile on his lips.

"What the hell? We can still save him – he'll be hurt, but-" Clint demanded, struggling against the god's vise-like grip.

"My brother will come back to us," Thor promised, "but first, I imagine his daughter will have words for him."

Helheim _stunk_. Actually, if Loki was honest, that was probably just a projection of his own distaste for this miserable realm, but that was irrelevant. Cold seeped through him like a dank chill, cooling even his frosty core. As much as he loved Hel, he would be damned if he was going to spend eternity rotting away down here until she had need of him for her Ragnarok plans.

"Father."

It was a title more than a fond name, he noted ruefully as he glanced over at his second eldest. Hela's one green eye studied him balefully, and Loki couldn't help wondering when he pushed her so far away. He had no illusions about being a good father, but he'd always loved all his children. Having them banished to the ends of the universe hadn't exactly made showing them that easy, but his little half-child surely should know.

"Hela, I…" he paused, the silver tongue twisted into forked iron that cut his gums rather than slipping out his lips to placate and wheedle, "Midgard… I – I'm not ready-"

As soon as the strangled words left his throat, he realized the idiocy of trying to negotiate with the Queen of the Dead and – more importantly – his daughter. Shortly after, he realized he needn't have bothered.

The slim young woman – _still so young_ – wrapped her arms, one ice and one fire, about his waist and pressed her head gently into his chest just below his clavicle. Startled at first, Loki reeled slightly before relaxing and tightening his own arms around his darling girl. He was careful with her left side, always fearful of hurting that much tenderer hemisphere.

"I know," she whispered, "You're too early anyway."

Relief flooded the lanky man's entirety as he sagged slightly in her arms, and Hela couldn't keep the right side of her mouth from quirking upwards in a smile. God of Lies though he was, Loki had never been able to hide his passion for life – even his attempts to destroy himself had been half-hearted gestures. Hela knew very well the power that was housed in her father's thin body – she _was_ counting on it, after all – and how easily he could kill himself if he only tried. The mortal who'd flitted briefly to her realm earlier had identified it so quickly: '_You lack conviction.'_ All of Loki in three simple words.

"I know you're used to it, but it will hurt," she warned gently, breaking away from the hug.

Loki nodded faintly, fairly buzzing with energy. It wasn't an entirely accurate description – in this state, all Loki _was_ was energy – but as she readied his soul to escape yet again, Hela hid a smile at her father's familiar face. He could change to whatever form he desired, and yet always he would remain her father.

Then, with a flick of her tendoned wrist, his soul was rent from the dead and forced back. She hesitated a moment, letting a brief flicker of whist dance over her. Much as he'd done to wrong her – let Fenrir be mutilated, herself and Jormugandr banished, Asgard falling into Thor's idiot hands – she loved him, and a quiet part of her mostly-there heart ached faintly with a childish longing for her father.

_Sentiment_, she could practically hear him scoffing.

"Are you shitting me? We can fix this," Clint argued, backed up by an adamant Tony and more indecisive Steve.

"My brother is the most adept sorcerer in all the realms and his daughter Queen of the Dead. If they cannot fix this, none can," Thor rumbled.

At some point during this impasse, thunder had started growling lowly and steely anvils had begun forming overhead. Rain was a'coming, and they all knew why. None of them were sure why Thor was so convinced that they should simply let his brother's broken body remain draped and bloody over the rubble, but Bruce – ever the one to avoid conflict – held with the thought that being his brother, Thor probably knew best. Natasha simply hung back, waiting for the boys to duke it out.

A ragged gasp and the sound of shifting rubble, however, quickly distracted all six as Loki lurched forward, his hands clutching his previously-holey abdomen. Blood lingered all over him, but it had stopped flowing and all the lacerations were gone. Minus the gore-speckled clothing and harsh breathing, he was Loki once again.

"How is Hela, brother?" Thor queried lightly, his relief plain despite his knowledge that his brother would return.

Loki snorted derisively at this question, tired green eyes flicking up towards his brother as Thor leaned down to offer a hand. For once, he accepted and let the thunderer help pull him to his unsteady feet.

"Far more sentimental than I recall. You haven't been visiting, have you?" the trickster answered dryly.

Beaming, Thor clapped a hand on his brother's shoulder that caused tension to blossom in Loki's jaw to prevent himself from stumbling forward. Relief had washed through all the rest of the team, though it was shown in sharp quips and sporadic swearing - in the cases of Tony and Clint – and quiet smiles from Steve, Bruce and Natasha. Their resident sorcerer-cum-villain-cum-Avenger had too much pride to admit it, but a faint hint of warmth curled around his heart like a cat, thawing away some of the protective ice as he caught the undertones of fear dissolved and stifled joy in the mortals' gestures. _Perhaps_, he mused,_ they are not so worthless after all._

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**AN: So cliche...and short. Sorry. Just to clarify - in my head, Loki doesn't hate humanity [in fact, he, much more than Thor, has always been intrigued by/endeared to we humble mortals], but he has some unresolved issues with the Avengers, which'll come up later. **

**Also, thanks a bunch for the reviews/favorites/follows - they mean a ton! (:**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: In hindsight, I should probably have a warning somewhere for profanity. There is a ****_lot_**** of it, and I didn't even realize ^^; oops.**

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Laughter was ricocheting and booming out of the tower windows with the same warmth as candelight as the Avengers, all draped over some piece of furniture and generally lacking in any sort of dignity, toasted their victory with Asgardian mead. They didn't really get how it was there – other than Loki had magicked it away from Magical Spacey Land, as Tony dubbed it – nor if it was really safe – because a drink potent enough to knock gods and super soldiers on their asses was maybe too much for mere mortals – but they didn't really care. It was sweet and hot and intoxicating, and all who drank of it were pretty far gone (except Thor, but they assumed that it would take a barrel of even this swill to get the thunderer tipsy).

"Where'd the rum go?" Clint whined, sprawled against the couch.

"Mead, my friend," Thor corrected, taking a swig of his own drink.

It _was_ an awful lot like rum – hot and searing with an almost fruity sweetness – but Tony didn't really think that mattered to anyone present. Aside from Thor and Banner, they were all on the wasted side of sober, though Tony had more or less of a handle on himself; enough years of alcoholism may rot one's liver, but it also gave him damned good tolerance. Clint, however, was morphing slowly into sad, pleading puppy dog eyes at the sight of his empty glass and no visible refill, and that was a little more than Tony could handle.

"Take it easy, Feathers," Tony yawned, standing to stroll back to the bar where the mostly-full bottle of mead stood.

Thor's face tightened slightly at this epithet, and suddenly, the clear glass of golden liquor was very intriguing indeed. Though Tony's gaze slid briefly over this reaction as he poured two more glasses of mead, he let it go; they often teased Thor about his seemingly blind attachment to his brother, but Thor was not nearly the fool he often played, and whatever thoughts were darkening those eyes, Tony simply didn't want to know. The low rumble of distant thunder may have dissuaded him as well; there was nothing wrong with Manhattan getting the occasional rain shower, anyway.

Glancing out the window to check on those looming clouds, Tony started at a familiar shape out on the balcony. Loki was leaning against the railing in normal, guy-on-the-street clothes – and _fuck_ if Tony hadn't gotten used to that yet; millennia-old Asgardian gods were not supposed to go about wearing jeans and t-shirts no matter how hard they tried to convince Thor – and that really shouldn't have bothered him, but Tony was still feeling a lingering guilt over the whole Loki _dying_ saving him earlier in the day. It didn't really matter that he'd just snap-crackle-popped back to life, because Tony had been under that building listening to Loki's ribs splinter and shatter with each shift of the rubble, and he couldn't get that horrific popcorn sound out of his ears.

"Hey, Bambi – come on in and stop being so emo," he called around the door.

Loki glanced over his shoulder with faint amusement at this call, but his gaze returned to the darkened city without any reply. _Just go inside. The fucker's not worth it_, but Tony _really_ couldn't get that popcorn sound out of his ears. Moseying over towards the deity, he leaned his hip against the rail and cocked an eyebrow. After a few moments of intense, eyebrow-quirked staring, Loki glanced over, and his own brow lifted to crinkle his forehead quizzically.

"I never said thanks – y'know, for keeping that building from crushing me," he explained.

A nod and Loki's gaze returned to the city.

"Thor would have my head if I let one of you die," he shrugged.

_And there's the arrogant ass…_ Tony mused, a flicker of familiar irritation shimmying through him.

"Thor might think you're the greatest thing since JARVIS, but I doubt even he would hold you to protecting all of us all the time," he snorted.

Amusement flickered through Loki's eyes though his steady green gaze didn't shift. Either he had way better sight than Tony and was enjoying some kind of show through the windows across the street or he was just being rude – Tony wasn't really sure which was more likely.

"I killed a bilgesnipe before I was of an age to bear arms; rescuing a few mortals every now in then is hardly a stretch of my abilities," he replied dryly.

Tony started to open his mouth with some jackass response before – wait. _Waait_.

"Hold up. A bilgesnipe? Aren't those the things Thor has a hard time with _now_?" he demanded, incredulous.

Loki hummed absently, a brief nod his only real response. The guy was generally quiet – when he wasn't snarking – but Tony couldn't help wondering how many centuries back in thought he was buried tonight.

"Puh-_lease_. You're Thor's _little_ brother – remember, the one who Thor still teases about being a bookworm?" Tony remarked.

There was a familiar stiffening of Loki's body, though a slow breath from the lean man caused his body to relax once more. It didn't take oversensitive Captain Spangles to recognize a sore spot.

"Of course," the god replied evenly.

Silence reigned for a few more moments as Tony scrutinized Loki's face and tried to gauge whether or not he was lying. _Of course, he's lying. He's the fucking God of Lies._ It took way too much focus to keep his eyes from flicking down to where, in his suit, the database would be. Instead, he scrunched his eyes shut and tried to remember everything he'd ever read or heard about Loki as well as his own experience fighting with – and against – the god.

"You really killed one when you were a little kid?" he finally asked.

"It was threatening Thor," Loki shrugged.

Tony didn't bother stifling his laughter at that, because _of course_ Thor's crazy little brother would be able to kill some horrific beast out of some insane brotherly protectiveness. It wasn't like Loki himself had tried to kill Thor a dozen times at least. Loki scowled plainly at Tony's mirth.

"How old were you?" he asked, "Just out of curiosity."

A low humming again sounded as Loki undoubtedly ran the calculations through his mind.

"About the equivalent of a Midgardian seven year old or so; it's hard to be exact," he offered after a minute or so.

"Seven?" Tony breathed, "_Fuck_. So you _really_ weren't trying with the whole alien invasion thing, were you?"

"Mmm. No," Loki replied, "I'm not sure I've 'really tried' with much recently. Aside from kil-"

He cut himself off abruptly, jaw clenching as he let his fingers fiddle with themselves. Tony stared, sifting through the possible endings to that sentence – _'killing people'? 'kilt wearing'? 'kiln fired pottery'?_ Somehow, he was pretty sure that the first was the most accurate though he couldn't keep the image of a thoroughly Scottish Loki dancing through his mind. _Maybe Thor…_

"So, what can you do now?" he inquired instead of pressing for the end to that sentence.

It was no hidden fact that Tony was terrible at empathy, and anyway, fact gathering on a potential future enemy was far more worthwhile than trying to get answers out of the Trickster. Anyway, if Loki had that much power as a little kid, there was no telling how much of a help – or danger – he could be now.

Unfortunately, the Asgardian wasn't feeling overly helpful; he gave another shrug and was quiet for a bit longer. Tony was just getting ready to leave with some witty comment apropos of nothing, when Loki finally spoke.

"I…bound most of my magic away," he explained cautiously, "so experimenting…hasn't exactly been an option."

_Bound?_

"You what?" Tony demanded.

Loki's green glaze flitted briefly to the mechanic's face, and Tony was startled by the brief rawness of his expression. Doubt, fear, hatred, hope – all of them raced across his pale features in a rush almost too fast to be read. There was only a fraction of a moment for Tony to realize that he maybe _(really)_ should have just gone back with the mead and not popped out here for an undoubtedly disturbing 'heart-to-heart.'

"There are…certain prophecies that I will more or less bring about the destruction of all nine realms," Loki started in a too-even tone, "That I will be the helmsmen of Nilheim's ships to bring ruin to the Realm Eternal and any good man who stands in our way. Suffice it to say, I have no desire for those prophecies to become reality."

_Holy jesusfuck. Well, that was one way to tell someone that you could kick their ass – probably while in a coma with both hands cut off._

"To be fair, I need my hands to direct my seidr," Loki chuckled with a thin smirk, and Tony winced as he realized he'd said that last bit aloud.

"Haha. Yeah. Okay. So you can like destroy everything," Tony laughed – and if it was a little manic, well he'd just found out that maybe Thor's 'weaker little brother' was not quite what they thought.

"Presumably," Loki agreed.

"And Thor? Does he…?" Tony queried, passing a glass to Loki so he had a free hand to run back through his hair.

"…sort of," Loki started uncertainly, "He has the basic idea of seidr and knows well the prophecies, but he does not quite comprehend the vagaries in dealing with magic."

"So he knows you're supposed to cause the apocalypse but he didn't get that taking over Earth was just like taking a nap?" Tony demanded, not even bothering to hide his disbelief.

The god had fallen quiet again, and Tony realized with no small amount of surprise that Loki had actually been talking. Not just in his brief, courteous way generally reserved for the Avengers – he'd been explaining and admitting things that Tony didn't think anyone else – at least anyone nearby – knew.

"So…your wife?" he prompted hesitantly, ready to back out of this one if Loki seemed the slightest unwilling, "I – uh I did some reading up. She sounds…amazing?"

His voice lilted upwards uncertainly, worried on Loki's taking of that sentence. Sure, Thor had explained the Allspeak with a lot of hand waving and mumbo jumbo, but he seemed to miss intentions as much as anyone else. _Well…no. _He understood when jokes were made even if he didn't get them, and he knew when people were hurting despite not understanding why. Intentions Thor got just fine.

"Worry not, Stark; I am no so protective of my wife as that," Loki chuckled, making Tony wonder once again if the god wasn't also a telepath, "and yes, though your 'myths' are not entirely accurate, Sigyn is nothing less than a wonder."

A grin snuck over Tony's lips at the warmth and happiness that spilled through Loki's voice at this a _little bit_ ridiculous statement, but it was also the first time he'd seen the mischievous god relax even a little bit in front of them. Every once in a while, he'd caught Loki without his frosty sheen – and that was a _really_ bad analogy wasn't it? – but he was always guarded. It was a nice change to have him open up.

"Does she know about your whole save-the-world phase?" Tony queried with a teasing lilt.

"Of course," Loki snorted, "We may not see each other physically but we do keep in touch."

"Um…right. No. That made no sense whatsoever," Tony pointed out bluntly, "What are you, like inter-realm skyping? I don't really think that works."

An eyebrow twitched in puzzlement as Loki glanced over.

"Astral projection," he replied slowly, as if that were so simple a babe could have deduced it.

_Which, maybe in Loki's family, they can._

"Lokes, that might make a lot of sense to you, but to your average genius, it means zip," Tony sighed.

"Ah. Of course," Loki hummed again, taking a sip of the mead and mulling over an explanation.

He was silent for a long moment, fingers tapping idly at the balcony rail, but Tony just waited. Sure, he wasn't used to sitting still for too long, but in the pursuit of new information, he could wait an eternity. So long as there was good scotch waiting with him.

"It is…akin to your – what is it… FaceTime? – as an image is passed through the astral plane. Through it, one can influence another's dreams or, in the case of Sigyn and I, meet together and converse without physically departing from one realm," Loki explained cautiously.

"Huh. Think we could rig something up to get ahold of Thor when he's up in Asgard?" Tony suggested.

Loki inclined his head slightly, once again thinking.

"I imagine so, yes," he agreed after a moment.

"Great! To the lab!" Tony announced, clapping Loki's thin shoulder and raising his glass like Lady Liberty's torch.

It was certainly testament to his years with Thor that Loki managed to swallow his mead without coughing and simply shook his head slightly in resignation. Drunken men were drunken men whether on Midgard or the Realm Eternal – and one certainty was that they'd _always_ have some harebrained scheme to attend to while inebriated. Of course, he couldn't just let them do something stupid without supervision.

"JARVIS, pump the tunes!" Tony called cheerily as he trotted to the elevator with a half-smiling Loki in his wake.


	5. Chapter 5

Thor was going to wear a hole in the floor, Pepper mused with more concern than most people warranted _(if anyone could pace through the floor, it would be Thor)._ His brother was stretched out on the couch with a book perched in his thin fingers, though Pepper was pretty sure that he was actually just trying to calm Thor down; though she couldn't understand them this far across the room, she could hear the low murmur of Loki's voice.

"Morning!" she greeted cheerfully as she clipped over to them, her heels clacking.

"Lady Pepper! How good to see you," Thor boomed, overeager in his relief for a distraction.

"Virginia," Loki smiled warmly, his eyes teasing.

"Hey, Thor. And _Pepper_, Loki," she reprimanded lightly, "or I'm calling you by one of _your_ less-than-stellar names."

His nose wrinkled in distaste at that, but she didn't bank on having won; she didn't know any names of Loki's that he actually disliked.

"Are you just waiting for Jane?" she asked, knowing the answer.

Sure enough, Thor grimaced slightly and Loki stifled a grin.

"I am afraid so, Lady Pepper. It is hard to occupy my mind with other tasks at present," he admitted.

"Try impossible," Loki muttered, shifting back to his book.

"Why don't you help Steve train? I'm sure he wouldn't mind some company," Pepper suggested.

The god paused for a moment before nodding slightly. He wasn't addled, but the thought of Jane was enough to chase any logic from his mind. Pepper's suggestion was a good one. Thanking her thus, he hurried off to the gym.

Pepper chuckled, shaking her head as she sat down on one of the cushions Loki had moved his legs from. She'd braced herself, but it still came as a mild surprise when the fabric was cool to the touch instead of warm like it was when she stole Tony's seat.

"How long was he pacing?" she asked, scanning through some of the papers she'd sat down on the coffee table.

"An hour and seventeen minutes. And that was after waking me at dawn to ask what he should wear," Loki answered with a quiet snort.

"What did you tell him?" Pepper queried with a grin.

She had absolutely no difficulty in imagining Thor charging in to ask an absolutely inane question. Thor was Thor was akin to a child – a multi-thousand-year-old child who could beat most anyone to a pulp with his bare hands.

"I used a sleeping spell and transported him to his room. The wards didn't let him out till an hour and a half ago," he explained dryly.

Startled, Pepper was silent for a moment before her shoulders hiked up in laughter.

"Oh god. It's so cute," she giggled.

Loki merely smiled, green eyes flicking up over the top of his book. He didn't need to say anything for her to get the message: _You_ don't have to put up with it all the time. Once she'd quieted herself, Pepper glanced across at the lanky god with a grin lingering on her lips.

"Sigyn's coming today, too, isn't she?" she checked.

"Mm," Loki nodded, his gaze drawn automatically to the book.

Biting the inside of her lip, Pepper studied his face curiously. Considering the trouble he had gone to, to bring his wife and son to Earth, Loki was consistently withdrawn when the subject came up. Pepper sighed softly and went back to work; it wasn't her business anyway.

* * *

"He's so…different," Jane commented, leaning back against the counter.

Natasha glanced over in surprise, her glass halfway to her lips. Thor was ecstatic, yes, but he hardly seemed out of character. The thunder god was well known for his enthusiastic emotions. …as was currently being displayed in he, Clint, Tony and Darcy's ping pong match.

"Thor?" she asked.

"Wha- oh, no," Jane laughed, "I meant Loki. When they stayed with us he was a lot…happier, I guess. More cheerful anyway."

Eyebrow quirking, Natasha glanced over at the lean god still draped over the sofa. He'd gotten up to greet Jane and Darcy, but otherwise had remained quiet and out of the way. Nothing seemed too unusual about that.

"Really? He's always like this," Natasha shrugged.

"Huh," Jane murmured before brushing the topic away.

The rest of the afternoon passed with quiet chatter amongst the Avengers and Co. They had all immediately taken to Jane and Darcy; polar opposites, the two women pulled each other out into the generally chaotic atmosphere of superheroes. With the lounge filled with science hypothesizing and inane chatter, it wasn't until evening that they noticed Loki's absence.

"Hey, where'd Lokes go?" Clint queried, craning his neck to scan the room.

"He's not reading?" Bruce replied, surprise.

"Hey, Jarv, is Rudolf in his room?" Tony called, pausing for his AI's response.

"The younger Mr. Odinsson is not currently in the building, sir," JARVIS answered.

That announcement was met with silence and then a panicked flurry. Four of the friends tensed as thoughts of potential schemes whipped through their mind, while Thor and Clint shared a scowl.

"You uh want to clarify, J?" Tony prompted.

"Mr. Odinsson is on the roof, sir," the AI explained to a general sigh of relief.

However, that relief was short lived as Thor's face dropped in realization.

"Sigyn," he breathed before bolting.

The rest of the group hesitated only a moment before following – although, unlike Thor, they took the elevator – up to the roof, and all nine of them arrived at roughly the same time to the exact same scene.

Turned so that he was in profile, Loki's arm was wrapped about waist of a slim woman in the midst of kissing him, and a bit of black hair peeked up over his shoulder. The sound of the others' arrival, however, caused the two adults to break apart in surprise.

"Sigyn!" Thor boomed again.

Despite Loki's sudden scowl, the auburn haired goddess turned with a bright smile to her brother-in-law as well as the rest of the audience now gaping at her family. Loki shifted to allow Sigyn to actually face the Avengers and in doing so, revealed a bright-eyed toddler in his arms. Curly black hair stuck up in all directions, and the small child stared with wide grey eyes.

"Hello, Thor," Sigyn greeted with a faint inclination of her head, "The Avengers, Miss Foster, Miss Potts."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Jane replied, offering her hand.

"Please, there's no need for formalities," Sigyn laughed, pulling Jane into a hug.

Startled, the astrophysicist's arms shot out reflexively before returning the brief hug. The rest of the Avengers – and Pepper – received a slightly more formal handshake and smile, which left some – Tony and Clint – disappointed in their lack of a hug from the petite goddess. Meanwhile, Loki had reluctantly relinquished his son into Thor's strong arms, much to the boy's delight.

"Uncle Thor!" he squealed, beaming.

"Aye, little fellow – by the Nine, you've grown," his uncle rumbled.

Loki's gaze flitted between his wife and son protectively, hating having them both pulled away from him. Without even looking at him, Sigyn could feel his warm look and hid a smile as she stepped back to him and interlaced their fingers. The relief that slipped through him was tangible.

"Hey, lil' man," Darcy cooed, wiggling her fingers at the boy, "Meet your aunt-sister-ancient-cousin!"

A few confused glances were shared, as well as Sigyn's snort of laughter, but most of them brushed it off as Darcy's general nonsense. The boy, however, scowled deeply as if deliberately attempting to mimic his father before his face cleared in an almost comical change.

"Hela?" he inquired happily.

Thor blanched, Loki swore softly, and the rest of them shared varyingly confused looks. Luckily, Tony picked that moment to step forward.

"So, nice as Manhattan air is – we have a tower," he pointed out, gesturing to the waiting elevator.

The Asgardians – and Jane and Darcy, of course – elected to take the stairs, but the others fit comfortably within the elevator. Leaning back beside Pepper, Tony scratched his jaw absently.

"Well – that was kind of awkward," he mused, "and damn. How'd Reindeer Games get _her_?"

Pepper rolled her eyes but stifled the desire to smack her boyfriend upside the head.

"I thought Loki's kids were all monsters," Clint commented.

"According to legend, he had two normal sons with Sigyn," Bruce corrected with a shrug.

The perhaps two seconds left in the ride were spent in silence, and once they reached the lounge, the Avengers-sans-Thor dropped into comfortable spots about the room to wait. Shortly after, Thor and Jane entered with the boy perched on his uncle's broad shoulders; Loki and Sigyn arrived just behind them, their hands clasped and faces warmed by faint smiles that lingered in the creases about their eyes.

"Behold, Vali the Brave!" Thor announced, "Great warrior of Vanaheim and Asgard alike – scourge of all ne'er do wells!"

Giggling happily, the boy raised his hand and little sparks of chartreus appeared about the fingers before Sigyn's hand shot out and the magic disappeared. From her tired look, it was clear that this wasn't a rare occurrence, and from Vali's frustrated frown, it wouldn't be the last this night.

Steve found himself grinning at the kid even as Vali scrambled down from Thor and raced around the room, a self-declared hero. Before long, he'd gathered each of the heroes' names and their specialty. At Bruce's hesitant explanation of the Hulk, the boy had verily beamed.

"My papa shapeshifts, too!" he exclaimed, "You're a seidrmandr."

The excitement in that declaration was such that none of them had the heart to correct the boy. There was, however, a little trepidation as Vali set out attempting to prompt Bruce's shift until Steve had scooped the boy up and distracted him. Only a few moments passed, though, before Vali was darting over to scope out the arc reactor. Tensing immediately, Tony nearly tossed the boy when magic sparked in his fist again. This time, though, it was Loki who stifled it.

"That is entirely _his_ fault," Sigyn commented, leaning into her husband's arm, "He's always taking things apart."

Loki grinned languidly, his entire body relaxed into the couch, and shrugged a shoulder. He and Sigyn had taken the couch, and both kept a watchful eye on their hyperkinetic son. Once Vali had started introducing himself to the rest of the Avengers, Jane and Thor had settled down as well, and the astrophysicist was now in the midst of talking to Bruce about the relative application of gamma rays in locating potential Bifrost spots – no one was surprised that, of all of them, those two would be talking science instead of just chatting.

"Whoa, lil' guy," Steve chuckled, picking up Vali and situating him on the stool the god-child had been attempting to scale, "What do you want, buddy?"

"Mead," the boy explained with a sunny smile.

Even Tony blanched at this, all of them shooting startled stares in Loki's direction, but neither he nor the other two Asgardians seemed bothered by this request. In fact, Thor was giving the rest of the room a bemused glance at their hesitation.

"Uh – isn't he a little young?" Clint queried, "I mean, I get time runs differently up there, but he's like six."

"Mead's given to all ages save infants," Sigyn explained, "but, if you have milk, he'd probably be fine with that."

She had spent far less time on Midgard recently than either of the brothers, but she recognized that concern with all the surety of a Midgardian. There wasn't really a good reason for the all-ages mead drinking in Asgard, because even with the saltwater that surrounded them, they had enough contact with the other realms to get fresh water (and really, either Odin or Loki would be perfectly able to transform the ocean into drinking water, at least around Asgard); nonetheless, most children drank the sweet liquor as soon as they were old enough to not need milk.

"There's a gallon in the fridge," Pepper called over as the archer grabbed a glass.

"So, how'd you two meet?" Pepper started with only the faintest hint of uncertainty.

Sigyn chuckled, though she tossed a worried glance over at her husband. An easy smile was still on his lips, though, and Natasha's curiosity sat up sharply. Apparently seeing nothing to dissuade her, the goddess paused as if in thought before starting.

"When we were much younger, Thor decided to take on the Fire Serpent of Muspelheimr," she began, amusement in her tone, "and greatly misjudged his opponent. The Warriors Three and Lady Sif rushed him back, but it was all we healers could do to stop the venom. The All-father and All-mother were in great distress – and it was doubled when the younger prince vanished. I was quite certain we wouldn't have a palace left with their panic."

Though she was smiling in laughter at this, Loki's face had shifted with genuine surprise – and a hint of suspicion. Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly, listening more intently.

"After enough hours – when we had all but convinced the king and queen of the need for funeral preparations – Loki returned, and with him was the cure for the serpent's poison. Everyone was overjoyed and relieved that both princes had returned. Of course, it took Thor knocking Loki out for the rest of us to realize that he was hurt. I was the one in charge of him – though he was a _terrible_ patient," Sigyn finished.

"…you knocked out your brother after he just saved you and was already injured?" Clint demanded.

"Oh, oh no! I didn't mean -" Sigyn stammered, flushing.

"He forced me to drop an illusion hiding the burns," Loki explained with a shrug.

"The idiot nearly killed himself," Thor snorted, "and all of Asgard calls _me_ the proud one."

"At least I had enough sense to avoid getting myself turned into a serpent's lunch," Loki rejoined.

Bruce had broken off from his conversation with Jane to genuinely grin at the brother's bickering; it was so far removed from the usual personas of them – Loki with his icy mask and Thor with his puppy-like geniality. For once, he could see the brother of whom Thor had also spoken so affectionately.

The rest of the night was easy, with laughter and conversation floating through the room as if they were all old friends and not the motley crew they were. Sigyn and Steve had found themselves chatting up a storm, even with Loki's light-hearted comment about losing his wife to a mortal, and Clint found himself the perfect match for one Vali Lokison. When it was sometime closer to morning than night, however, they all called it quits and, save for Tony, wandered off to their rooms.

Still wide-awake, Tony had grabbed a mug of coffee and set off for the lab: he'd started working on a phone for Thor's inter-realm travels with Loki's assistance, and he was possibly using JARVIS to run tests on the magic Loki had used. So far, it was driving him far more insane than he preferred; while the Tesseract and 'glowstick of destiny' had both emitted radiation akin to gamma rays, Loki's magic alternated between just about every form of energy there was, constantly evolving and changing.

He was three hours into it by the time he finally leaned back in frustration and laced his hands behind his head. Everything could be explained by science – _everything_. There was no way in hell that some stupid alien with glowing – okay, he needed a break.

"How're our guests, J?" he called, trying to distract himself from impotent frustration.

He wasn't going to get anything out of his time down here if he resorted to railing at Loki in his own head. Sure, he could work wonders when he was trapped in a cave or stuck out in the middle of Tennessee with a kid as a colleague, but yelling at a god inside his head was about as useful as smacking that same head against the table. Not very.

Somewhere around the time that he came to this round-about realization, he also realized that JARVIS had said no more.

"J?" he queried before starting in surprise.

On the screen was the live feed from Loki's room – Tony didn't ask why JARVIS had a camera positioned directly over the god's bed – and, much to the tinkerer's relief, the scene was hardly a kinky one: laying mostly on his side, Loki's one arm was draped over to rest gently on Sigyn's shoulder, her own arm curled about the boy sleeping between them with a faint smile on his lips. An echoing stretched pulled Tony's own lips, and his mind automatically drifted to Pepper. That grin stretched wider with wry understanding.

"Point taken, Jarv," Tony chuckled, flicking off the computers and heading upstairs.

* * *

**AN: **So, that's basically where my inspiration grinds to a screeching halt [and yes, that entire chapter was just for a snuggly scene of Loki's family. I regret nothing.]. I'd love some suggestions if you have any for what adventures to include next!

Oh, and I realized belatedly that I reference a lot of fics that I love without explaining them...at all. So!

Darcy's comment about being related to Vali stems from this fic: /works/495868/chapters/868126 [rated M for adult content... mostly sexual suggestions and some content, I s'pose]

Loki saving Thor comes from this one [the whole series is lovely and puts an [to me] awesome light on the whole royal family's relationships]: /works/543843

...I know there are more, but I can't find all of them [i.e. the one in which Loki knows he's jotunn and saves Thor from a bilgesnipe - I have searched all of and AO3 and come up empty!].

Also, sorry it's taken so long to reply to reviews - I really can't stand the built in system ^^;

** Kiiriminna** and ** BlazeingEcho** - Thanks a bunch! It's always nice to hear one's work is appreciated.

** SirVacuumThe3rd** - I've been writing for a little under a week, but yes - posted all in four days. Thanks a bunch!

** Sombraline** - Aw, thank you for making me the exception ^^ I'm really glad to hear that; I kind of worry that I put too much Tony and Loki in and make them OOC - it's nice to hear otherwise. Thanks for replying to the Author's Note, too!


	6. Chapter 6

Hawkeye's eyes narrowed, forcing himself to focus on the looming grey monstrosity rather than getting distracted by the same diversion that was keeping the opponent from smashing the Eiffel Tower and a good portion of Paris as well. While he hadn't really enjoyed the three am wakeup call or the super-sonic flight, he was admittedly relieved that, for once, Manhattan wasn't taking the alien beatdown. Then again, Paris wasn't getting hit by much at the moment, either: the alien giant was thoroughly taken with the creature darting over its body and constantly changing shape.

Iron Man hovered just a little bit away, ready to catch Hawkeye in case the archer slipped and fell from his precarious perch amidst the steel bars of the Tower. Dents could be seen in his scratched red-and-gold suit, and a stray spark occasionally shot out from certain cracks and joints, but he was still holding steady with both hands flexed at his sides. He'd refused to sit down, even once Loki had completely entranced the behemoth despite Coulson and Thor's entreaties; whether Iron Man or Tony Stark – he was always a stubborn ass.

No one was really sure where the Hulk had gone: a line of smashed buildings testified to the path his body had taken when flung by the grey goliath, but they hadn't seen him since. Thor, having just landed from a rather hasty trip to Asgard, held easily to the tip of the Eiffel Tower, just waiting to unleash his own maelstrom.

"I've got a clear shot," Hawkeye announced into the comm, "Do you want me to take him out?"

"Are we talking about our favorite god of chaos, lies and adorable children or the New Colossus?" Iron Man queried, "Speaking of – _what the fuck is he doing?_"

It was a question that had immediately sparked in Hawkeye's mind once the fluffy brown squirrel creature that was currently Loki had begun leaving a trail of thin gold that wrapped around the giant's chest and arms, binding them tight. Immediately realizing what was going on, the behemoth began struggling, though it couldn't move its arms more than an inch or so. Once he'd danced over its torso a few times, squirrel-Loki darted up to its shoulder and perched there for a few moments until the giant settled and lowered itself down to its knees.

"Hawkeye, Thor, Iron Man, stand down. Loki seems to have this under control," Coulson replied needlessly.

Lowering his bow, Hawkeye dropped the sedative-laced arrow into his quiver and tapped his bow's grip, causing the quiver to whir softly as it rearranged tips and shafts. By the time it quieted, he'd folded his bow and accepted Thor's hand and was being flown down to the ground, and he was definitely not clinging to Thor's muscled forearm in terror. He just didn't really relish the thought of splatting against the ground in case his hand slipped.

They landed just as Loki did, his feet shifting back into humanoid, boot-clad ones just a moment before touching the ground. The length of gold chain vanished almost before the rest of them could comprehend what it was. Luckily, they had Hawkeye's sight if they needed any answers – at least regarding the appearance. He was damned if he could understand how gold chain the width of a necklace was keeping the building-sized monster still.

"Where's Bruce?" Iron Man, already shifting back into Tony, asked as he flipped up his face plate.

"'m here," a muffled voice replied.

All heads turned to where a shirtless, barefoot and nearly-pantless Bruce Banner was making his way cautiously over the rubble. His hair was mussed into bizarre spikes and dirt was smeared across one cheek.

"Damn, buddy – lookin' fine," Tony declared before being cut off by Coulson's voice in his ear.

He paused just a moment to listen before glancing at the kneeling giant and frowning faintly.

"Coulson wants to know how we're getting Big Guy out of Paris," he relayed.

"I assumed we would return him to his realm," Loki answered mildly before glancing over at Thor and Banner, "I can open the portal, if you two would … help him on his way."

Thor nodded, and the Other Guy grunted as he appeared. Then, with a vague gesture from Loki's hand, the sky was rent and the abysmal blue-black was ringed with gold as the two musclemen of the group began leveraging the bound giant into the portal. Clint was the only one who saw Iron Man drop to a knee, faceplate slammed down and fist pressed into the ground as if to hold him steady while the world was pulled away.

However, once the alien was bundled off to his apparent realm, the others began reacting in a blur. Loki turned and froze for only a moment before stalking towards the bent suit, and then the Iron Man helmet was gone, and Loki's pale hands were on either side of Tony's ashen face. The Other Guy vanished back into Bruce Banner's body, which immediately began shuffling over, and Thor strode to his brother's side.

"What's going on? Hawkeye, report," Coulson ordered.

"Iron Man is down," the archer reported automatically before hesitating, "I…I think he's having a panic attack."

Loki's eyes flickered briefly, and Thor stepped close enough to lay a gentle hand on his brother's shoulder. A moment longer, and then he leaned back onto his haunches with a sigh, and Tony slumped forward.

"His armor should be removed," the god instructed quietly, "and, if possible, he should be given to Miss Potts immediately."

"Jet's on the way. Be there in a minute or less," the Black Widow offered through the comms as Hawkeye and Banner began dismantling the suit.

It had taken a lot of work, but the team – mostly Steve – had eventually convinced Tony to let them know fo the emergency releases for his armor just in case he was stuck inside some time. Now, the archer and scientist stripping him were washed in gratitude that they had persuaded him, though neither seemed to be panicking as they carefully popped apart the suit and sat it neatly to the side. _Come to think of it_, Bruce realized, _everyone's so…calm._ Even the one or two civilians who'd straggled into the park seemed to look around with a hint of confusion and otherwise tranquility. The earlier urgency to neutralize the alien giant along with the anxiety that had leapt up at Tony's collapse was gone, washed away with the soothing tide.

"Loki," Bruce started cautiously, "did you put a…uh – calming? spell on the city?"

The god was still sitting with his knees and the balls of his feet pressed into the ground, and one hand rested on his leg while the other rubbed his forehead.

"No. I cast one on Stark as well as an impulse for sleep," he answered.

"And that's – that's affecting the entire Champs de Mars?" Bruce demanded.

A low chuckle from the god startled him, and the scientist glanced back to see Thor's hand tighten on his younger brother's shoulder. Loki's eyes opened just slowly enough to mostly mask the jump they made from void-black to grass green, and Hawkeye felt a shiver run down his spine. He'd noticed that particular shade tended to occasionally appear in Loki's irises, but it had never entirely connected why that might be.

"No, my own spell is acting up. Apparently, neither Stark nor I react well to the spaces between Yggdrasil's branches," he explained in a hollow voice.

That understatement was momentarily forgotten as the quinjet landed and the entire team clambered in. Steve was already waiting in the back while Natasha flew and Coulson co-piloted. For once, both Thor and Loki rode home rather than flying or teleporting.

"Brother," Thor started some forty minutes into the flight, "that chain – it was Gleipnir, was it not?"

Loki nodded a silent affirmation.

"And Fenrir?" his brother prompted.

"Remains bound. I was the one who bound him, Thor," Loki reminded before adding coldly, "though not the one to suggest the sword."

Visibly blanching at this prod, Thor fell thankfully silent for the rest of the flight. New York had just settled into its afternoon hum, but the team – aside from Steve, Thor and Loki – were swaying on their feet by the time they arrived. Tony, half-awake and very confused, was ushered away by Pepper, and the rest of them save the wakeful trio found their own beds calling their names.

The other three, however, found themselves crashed around the common lounge. None were overly eager to rise and actually do something – apparently, fighting giant aliens and herding civilians away from said alien was a little bit tiring – but neither were they tired enough for sleep.

"So, how is Asgard?" Steve inquired after twenty minutes' lazy silence.

"It is thriving," Thor answered after a moment, "though reparations with Jotunheimr are still being decided upon."

Loki grimaced at that addition, his gaze busily watching the clouds drift by even as he listened.

"Really? I thought that would have been cleared up by now," Steve admitted in surprise.

"Our negotiations were…er – stalled a few times," Thor explained, casting a cautious glance towards his brother.

Turning his gaze in Thor's direction, Loki's eyes narrowed, and the two held each other's gaze for a few moments; Steve, meanwhile, was left glancing between them and trying to read whatever was silently said. Finally, he simply stood and turned to go.

"I'm gonna' go down to the gym," he explained over his shoulder.

"What's slowing the negotiations?" Loki demanded as soon as Steve was out of earshot.

"The new Jotun king – Helbindi," Thor started before pausing, "He knows you are..."

Somehow, saying it aloud seemed too daunting a task, even as Thor realized his hesitation as a mistake; Loki's face had darkened and closed off into its flawless porcelain mask.

"Jotun," his brother supplied tightly.

"His younger brother saw when – when we were fighting, before," Thor released a huff of a breath – why was this so much harder for him than Loki? "They are…fixated on it."

"And Odin didn't think to remind them of my name as a shapeshifter?" Loki sighed, knowing the futility of the ruse, "He couldn't pass it off as a reflex?"

Despite the gravity of the situation, Thor felt a quick grin slip over his features. Though the Aesir had oft compared him to his father, the similarities were nothing compared to _Loki_ and Odin. Even now, their minds ran a similar course.

During the negotiations, when Odin had suggested this possibility to the frost giants, Thor had perked up immediately as the thought slipped into his mind. Immediately, he'd hated himself for being so callous as to wish his brother anything than what he was; how many times had he told Loki that it mattered not whether he was jotun or ás – he was Thor's brother?

"They did not believe him," he admitted, "Evidently, they have had experience with other shapeshifters in the past. They…"

He stopped himself there, again hesitant to admit the truth. Loki hated frost giants – had been terrified of them since they were tiny children – and Thor was unfortunately certain that discovering he was one of them had done nothing to abate this loathing. Loki had never been all that fond of himself, anyway.

"They what?" Loki prompted, eyebrow quirking.

Whatever Thor had to say, the lie-smith had little worry. He'd had enough punishments for his crimes over the centuries to lessen any anxiety he might feel over future consequences. Death or imprisonment was hardly frightening when you'd lain beneath a serpent's acid drip for two centuries.

"They want you," Thor finally finished, eyes averted.

* * *

**AN: **What, is this a wild plot suddenly appearing? Ohnoes! Yeaah, we'll see about this. JORMUGANDR IN THE NEXT CHAPTER :D ...I think


	7. Chapter 7

"They…_what_?" Loki hissed again.

His voice was far less patient – if one could mistake his earlier tone for patient – and rang with confusion and revulsion. There were a dozen possibilities that ran through his mind, but none of them really made any sense.

"They…are of the mind that you have been – been enthralled by Father and forced to do…everything," Thor explained reluctantly, "Helbindi requests proof otherwise."

Loki snorted in mirthless laughter at that, leaning his head onto the back of the couch and staring up at the ceiling.

"Proof? How do they plan to acquire that? And what of Jotunheimr – what I did to them?" he demanded, "I killed their king."

Thor sighed, aching to hit something; battle at least made sense. These negotiations were beyond ridiculous.

"I do not know. As for the bifrost and Laufey – they believe that was Father's doing as well," he replied.

"He was in the Odinsleep," Loki muttered, lifting a hand to rub at his forehead. _They are idiots._

"I know," Thor agreed.

"And Odin's thoughts?" his brother sighed.

"He will not give them anything unless you desire to come," he reassured, watching Loki carefully.

As expected, the darker prince snorted derisively, and Thor ignored the twinge of pain in his chest. Loki still hadn't forgiven Odin, he knew, for anything – the lying, the favoritism, the "No, Loki" – but it didn't mean that it didn't still hurt Thor to hear his brother's searing doubt.

"And is that to protect me or just needle them?" Loki queried scathingly.

"Loki, you know as well as I that our father loves you," Thor retorted, "He is trying to keep your best interest at heart – even with the threat of war with Jotunheimr looming because of our actions. Despite your repeated attempts to separate yourself, you are his son and he cares for you as such!"

He had stood at some point during that speech, as had Loki.

"Of course, he cares for his son; he showed as much everyday of our childhood and since. Robed him in gold, praised his every folly – he would never leave his _son_ dangling over an abyss or in the so-gentle hands of captors," Loki shot back, "I have little doubt that he has _his son's_ best interest ever at the forefront of his mind."

Green sparked at his hands, and Mjolnir had torn through the floor to reach Thor's grip, but neither backed down. This had been an argument long in the making, and neither the storm shaking the building's very foundation nor the likelihood of hurting each other was going to stop them.

"Never were you loved less than me, Loki! Do not play the part of the forgotten son – it suits you ill. Father and Mother have always supported your magic and sheltered you from the full ramifications of your mischief. Were it not for their interference, you would be long dead by now for some of your pranks," Thor shouted.

"'Know your place, Loki' – 'Step aside, brother, this is for men'," Loki quoted sharply, "How many of these were said to you, Thor? How often were you cut down and humiliated in front of the court for stepping out of line? You started a war with Jotunheimr and spent three days on Midgard; I cut a lock from Sif's hair and had my lips sewn shut. Is this the love of which you speak?"

"That was your folly for promising them your head!" Thor protested, "You taunted every notable man or woman in all of the realms, and your worst punishment was silence for less than an hour. Because you were punished means only that our parents tried to teach you – not that they ever loved you less."

From the doorway, Tony – in a less-dented one of his suits – and Steve – shield gripped tightly – watched anxiously. They'd all heard the thunder roar and Mjolnir tear through three floors – Bruce had only barely missed it, and the Other Guy had shown up in time to take out an entire wall as he leapt from the building – and the lightning scorching the walls had been hard to miss. Now, though, they weren't sure what to do; Clint and Coulson were off trying to hunt down the missing Hulk, and Natasha was filling Fury in as she helped evacuate the building. If the gods were about to have a throwdown in Stark Tower, they could at least try to keep the casualties at a minimum.

"My worst punishment? What of my children, mutilated and banished; being bound beneath a serpent for two hundred years? What of them, Thor? You presume to speak of my punishments as mere slaps on the wrist, but you know nothing of what they are," the trickster was yelling – which was weird, Tony noted, as Loki rarely lifted his voice beyond a low level – back.

"So, how likely am I to die if I step in?" Tony queried casually.

"Tony, no – neither of them are thinking-" Steve started to protest, but the other man was already strolling across the decimated lounge.

"You know, I'm always up for remodeling, but you could let me know, first," he called languidly to the raging gods, "Between Mew-mew over there and the Jolly Green Giant, I'm starting to think you don't like the place."

"Step back, Stark," Thor rumbled, a warning in his low voice and darkened eyes, "This is none of your concern."

"Heh, actually, it's kind of my building you're destroying and my people you're scaring, so yeah – it really _is _my business," Tony corrected lightly.

Thor bristled, and Tony could swear he _smelled_ the lightning crackling along his skin. The magic dancing over Loki's fingertips, meanwhile, had vanished, and the trickster god now stood with a bored gloss over his hard eyes. _Yep, this was a dumb move_, Tony mused not-entirely-cheerfully.

"So, uh, you guys want to take this somewhere else? Manhattan's had enough of people beating the shit out her without her heroes doing it, too," he suggested firmly, "Fly or teleport or whatever, but don't do this here."

His voice was both cajoling and authoritative, but Tony really wasn't sure how much good it'd do; the storm outside wasn't showing any signs of abating, and both gods looked just as close to launching themselves at each other as they had before he intruded. Then, Loki vanished.

"Brother – Norns damn it," Thor yelled, lunging too late.

"Y-" Tony started before Mjolnir became a blur and Thor launched himself out of the window, "Oh, fuck you all!"

* * *

Waves lapped hungrily at the shore, cresting white and breaking against the sand. Slowing his breath down to its normal rate, Loki waited patiently as the waves reached further and further up the shore. He'd positioned himself nearly ten meters from the water's edge in the first place, and already, it seemed he would have to move back again.

"Father," his son's voice finally hissed.

A faint smile slipped unattended onto Loki's lips as he glanced up from his boots. Jormugandr's broad head was stretched up to be almost eye level with him, and he'd turned just enough for one massive red eye to watch his father. Reaching a hand out palm up, Loki was immediately gratified with the barest weight of his son's scaly chin.

"Hello, Jor," he greeted, gently rubbing one of the endtable-sized plates on his son's nose.

"Father, you look weary," his son answered in a low vibration that spread through both their bones, and Loki resisted a flinch at those too-familiar words, "Have you been fighting with Thor again?"

The trickster hummed faintly, and the great sea snake snorted derisively – or at least, that was how Loki translated the huff of air.

"You should not quarrel with him, Father; it does neither of you any good," the serpent chided.

"Have you seen him recently?" Loki asked instead of following that topic.

"No," Jormugandr answered, crimson eye narrowing in something akin to irritation, "He has been much too distracted with his mortal pets to pay me any mind. As have you."

"My apologies," Loki replied gently, "I should have come sooner."

Satisfied at actually getting an apology from his father, Jormugandr lifted his head and pushed some fifty feet of his bulk – barely the start of his neck – onto the island on which Loki stood. As he settled into the still warm sand, Loki folded himself gracefully beside his son's eye. It was an old position, one that had become their norm since Jormugandr had been little more than a babe, and the serpent's eyes hooded slightly with pleasure at the warmth of his father's back. He was well aware that it was magic warming Loki's body up from its general jotunn-cold, and that thought added to his contentment.

"How is Sigyn and Little Brother?" he queried.

"Well enough. They send their best – and Vali still demands you show him how to shift into a snake," Loki answered with a soft laugh.

The chuckle that rumbled through the enormous snake's body was enough to cause the waves to pick up again near where his body broke the surface.

"The All-father would be most displeased," he rumbled.

"All the better reason to teach him," Loki mused lightly.

"Someday, they will find a punishment enough to break you, Father," Jormugandr warned, worry clear in his vermillion eye.

If there was something broken in Loki's smile, well, there were many things to blame. Ignoring the quiet plea of _please, father, do not leave us again_, he reached an arm up and gently began tracing runes into his son's armored skin until the serpent sighed softly and slipped into comfortable sleep. Loki let his hand finish off the spell before he leaned back, eyes open, and watched the stars.

* * *

"So, we have two pissed off gods – one that could be anywhere on Earth and the other that could be anywhere – as in _an-y-where _– a knocked out Hulk, and a half-broken tower. Hey, anyone think this sounds familiar?" Clint summarized, the last part coming out muffled as he lowered his head to his arms.

They were all sitting in the lounge despite the wreckage and new plastic once again taking the place of Tony's window. Clint sat beside Natasha, who'd gently laid a hand on the base of his neck, and Steve chewed his lip across from them while Tony scribbled onto a tablet. Bruce was sleeping off his latest Hulk-out in Steve's room given the demolished conditions of his own.

A soft rustling startled them as all four lunged for some form of weaponry (being the two without real weapons on them, Steve and Tony ended up with a spoon and an empty bottle, respectively). The plastic was gone now, replaced by pristine glass identical to the kind Thor had shattered several hours ago, and the floor was smooth as marble.

"Any word from Thor or Loki, J?" Tony called warily.

"Mr. Odinsson is in his room, sir, and Loki is on the roof," the AI informed them.

Tony started at this lack of etiquette, and his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"J, what happened to Loki Odinsson?" he inquired.

"Loki informed me that 'Odinsson' was not his proper surname, and when I asked, he had little preference over the alternatives, sir," JARVIS replied.

"Alternatives?" Steve asked curiously.

"Loki Odinsson has also been known by the names of Silvertongue, Lie-smith, Skywalker, Laufeyson, Hveðrungr, Lejemand and Farbautijarson, sir," the AI listed before adding, "although he seemed displeased by both the patrimonial and maternal titles."

"Skywalker?" Clint sniggered, lifting his head.

"Oh, hell yes," Tony giggled, "Loki Skywalker – wait. Shit, they didn't name Luke after him, did they?"

Steve stared between them, trying to understand the humor and giving up shortly after he failed. It had been way too long a day for this.

"So…angry gods?" he prompted, "I can talk to Thor."

"Yeah, right. I'll ta-" Clint started before Natasha cut him off.

"Tony should talk to Loki," she suggested.

"Huh?" the genius mumbled, glancing up from his tablet.

"You two are practically identical," she pointed out, crossing her arms.

"Uh, yeah. Crazy God of Mischief and mostly-sane genius. I totally see the similarities. Not," Tony snorted.

"You're both brilliant men with deep rooted family problems who work what many would consider magic," she ignored his protest at that, "and both of you use way too much sarcasm. You're perfect."

Tony huffed but didn't object. In all honesty, he couldn't really.

"Fine. But if I end up on the sidewalk or ripped to bits in another dimension, _you_ have to face Pepper," he pouted.

* * *

**AN:** Well, Jormugandr got in there for a _little_ bit...

** Tabby** - honestly, this review totally made my day. I'm so glad you like it and think the characterization/plot/writing is going well. It means a lot!

** ChibiGikochin **- Unfortunately, I've only ever read snippets and summaries of the myths, so I have no idea what the actual cause of Midgard's destruction is. Your idea's really cool, though - I wish it would've worked in this story!

** Everyone Who Keeps Asking Me to Update** - not to be snippy, but I'm updating almost every day. Literally, as soon as I finish a chapter, I upload it, and while it's nice to know people want to read more...well, could you just say that instead of 'update soon!'? I'm not going to be passive aggressive or anything and slow updates, but it's a little tiring to see that when the most you've had to wait is about two days.

Anyway, thanks a bunch for the support; I really do appreciate it and love writing for such a responsive audience!

_**...and now we interrupt your fanfiction reading for some shameless**_ **_self-promotion!_**

If you like this story/my writing, check out my original fiction on deviantART - just type in tagg18 and you should be able to find it pretty quickly.


	8. Chapter 8

Tony found Loki exactly where he'd expected: sitting just on the edge of the roof with his legs dangling over. It had become something of Loki's safe spot in the months he'd been living with the Avengers, and it was unofficially dubbed 'Loki's (and Thor's, though not at the same time) pouting spot' just as Bruce had 'his' spot in the lab and Clint had his 'nest' in the gym roof. Tony didn't really mind; he'd been the one to invite them here, after all, and it was hardly a hotel.

"If you're going to jump, please try to avoid people walking by," he called over.

"My apologies for my brother's destruction," Loki apologized before adding, "as well as my hand in it."

"You've said that a lot, haven't you?" Tony snorted, sitting down beside the god, "and no biggie – thanks for fixing it."

Loki inclined his head slightly, "The first part, yes."

They sat in silence for a few moments, Tony unsure of how to broach the subject he was assigned to and Loki perfectly content not to speak. Finally, aching for something for his hands, Tony cleared his throat.

"So, uh – you and Thor… want to talk about whatever that was?" he suggested.

"Not particularly," Loki answered.

If pressed, he'd lie and roundabout his way away from the actual topic (he had _plenty_ of experience with that), mostly because he wasn't sure to which part of it Tony referred. The part about the Jotunns apparently worried about Loki – _and Norns damn them all, what is _that_ about?_ – or he and Thor's familiar arguing over who was better loved. Either way, he had little desire to repeat them to another.

"You sure? 'Cause I can always just get JARVIS to pull up the tapes," Tony warned casually.

As expected, Loki bristled at this suggestion and turned cold eyes on him. In their own way – that lacked any sort of modesty or concern for dignity – the Asgardians were very discreet people; Clint had once joked about sex tapes, only to have Thor enraged at the blatant disregard for one's privacy, and Tony had kind of been banking on that as leverage even as faint guilt flickered.

"Do as you please, Stark," Loki answered finally, his voice like ice, "you will understand little to none of it."

"Eh, I don't know. Steve and I were there for the whole 'daddy loves me best' part – I think I kinda' get that, at least," Tony shrugged.

"Because of your father's utter indifference throughout your life or his general disdain for anything you accomplished?" Loki queried.

Despite himself, Tony gritted his teeth in surprise at this sharp jab. He'd forgotten that threatening and cajoling didn't really work with Loki. Fuck, he didn't know what did; generally, when they talked, not that they did all that frequently, Loki was a willing participant. Given the steely veneer now, though, he pretty obviously wasn't.

"Hey, my dad didn't let me fall off a fucking bridge," Tony snapped.

Immediately, he knew it was a misstep by the way Loki flinched and the pulse of green at the trickster's wrist, but he wasn't altogether sorry. Sure, Loki had 'daddy issues', but who in the tower didn't? _They_ all managed to avoid turning Stark Tower into the world's tallest matchstick. Then again, that wasn't exactly the point.

"What was that? On your wrist?" he asked, trying to even out his tone.

Loki didn't answer, just kept his gaze stubbornly forward. After a few moments of this treatment, Tony huffed a sigh; god – _gods?_ – these guys were childish.

"Clint told me about you putting a calming spell or whatever on both of us. Can you at least explain that?" he demanded.

"You fell through the Void for less than a minute, Stark; I fell for three months," the god finally replied, his voice entirely devoid of emotion.

"Oh," Tony managed, grasping the enormity of that, "So. You get nightmares too."

Was that even possible? Neither Thor nor Loki had ever said anything about dreams – but then again, when had any Avenger mentioned their nightmares? Still, it seemed odd to picture either god waking up from a bad dream. Loki's rough bark of laughter, however, said that maybe they were human in this aspect, too.

"Yes, Stark," he drawled (_and how the hell was he making _this_ sound so damn condescending?)_, "memories of the void come calling at night."

Ignoring the fact that he could have said that with about ten fewer words, Tony leaned back to survey Loki silently for a moment. He was the best liar Tony knew, which made sense – God of Lies and all that – but he had a strange penchant for honesty. If he didn't know better, Tony would say it was like a kid trying to please those around him; if the truth was unpleasant to other's ears, lie until you'd built a façade they liked. He was maybe just projecting, too.

"How old are you and Thor? Our time," he inquired abruptly.

Loki glanced up in surprise at this abrupt change again; wariness lingered in his eyes as if preparing for being called a child or some other insult. There was a moment or two of silence as he ran through the mental math.

"Thor would be just around twenty one, I believe, and I'd be somewhere between eighteen and twenty," he finally offered, "though some would place us both closer to twelve."

Amusement flickered through Tony's mind, and he would have laughed at the accuracy of the last remark, but his brilliant brain was hung up on that first remark. Because what kind of teenager was married, had like a dozen kids, had nearly destroyed two planets, been brainwashed and was gradually working off his title as Public Enemy No. 1?

"But you're married! And have kids!" he blurted.

"I've been married since shortly before my last name day – just under a millennium ago," Loki explained, amusement clear in his voice, "and ignoring the technicalities, I won't be what you consider twenty-one until Thor's coronation."

"But I thought Thor's coronation was what you interrupted like two years ago?" Tony objected.

"When you are immortal, time is hardly limited to forward progression," Loki scoffed.

"Okay, Mr. Time Lord," Tony muttered, "That kind of makes sense. Right. So, you got de-aged after fucking up Thor's coronation and all?"

"In Asgard's eyes, yes," Loki conceded, "Just as Thor was until after his banishment. Now, Asgard merely waits for him to believe himself ready."

"What do you think?" Tony queried.

A thoughtful expression slipped over Loki's features, equal parts sorrow, rue and hope, and he took a quiet breath.

"He will make a good king, as I've always said," he finally answered, "and there will be no interruptions in his coronation so long as I can stop them."

Tony grinned and deftly bypassed the handy, jackass remarks that sprung to his lips about brothers and sappy Loki. Contrary to popular belief, he _did _have a brain-to-mouth filter – it just generally was more fun to not.

"So, you two good?" he asked instead.

Loki snorted, somehow managing to keep his dignity despite the huff, and a faint grin flicked briefly onto his lips.

"Given Thor's unconditional forgiveness," he mused dryly, "I suppose we must be."

"Yeah, you should probably apologize to him," Tony suggested, full well knowing that it was pointless. So far as he knew, Loki _didn't_ apologize – not that Tony could really nag him without being a hypocrite.

As expected, Loki scoffed as he stood up languidly. Tony stood as well, though he paused a moment to look thoughtful. He still wasn't really sure of the other Avenger God's mood, but it was probably best to keep the brothers separate for now.

"You play chess?" he asked.

Loki nodded slightly, "Of course."

He hadn't for a long time – not since the last time he and Thor had played, many years before the doomed coronation, but he forced himself not to think of that. Thor had undoubtedly lost or broken the set now or bartered it for something more valuable; after all, a nameday gift from a little brother was hardly worth keeping into adulthood. Closing off the quiet cry of want the memory caused, Loki turned and followed Tony into the tower.

* * *

Quiet raps sounded at Thor's door and the god glanced up reluctantly.

"Come in," he sighed.

Steve cracked the door cautiously, ready to bolt if there were any signs of Thor's anger still running hot. The rest of the team had agreed that any sign of lightning or sparks in general were pretty much the sign for Steve to run. While he seemed to have a sort of similar resilience as the Asgardians, no one really wanted to find out if he could stand up to divine lightning (well, Tony might, but then again…).

"Hey, uh, you okay? We didn't hear you, uh, come in," he stammered.

"My apologies, Captain," Thor inclined his head formally, "both for the destruction I caused and for failing to inform you of my return."

"It's fine," Steve soothed, inching cautiously into the room, "We were just worried – after your…argument and all."

A heavy sigh slid from Thor's lips.

"It is not a burden for your shoulders," he said.

"You're our friend, Thor; we want to help you with whatever's going on," Steve objected gently.

He was still keeping close to the door but could see Thor's entire back from where he sat on the edge of his bed.

"Do you play chess, Son of Roger?" the thunderer inquired abruptly.

"Uh… sort of?" Steve replied uncertainly.

"Would you care to play a round with me?" Thor invited.

Steve didn't really know how to play beyond the basics that Bruce had taught him a few months ago, but he wasn't about to drop the unhappy god's invitation now. Moving from his spot by the entry, he quickly walked over to the table in front of Thor's balcony, where the god had started laying out a chess set. Once he'd sat down, the captain paused to gawk at the board and pieces. Made of some gleaming stone, the board was trimmed in a pearlescent white and each piece was uniquely and intricately carved.

"Gosh, Thor," he breathed, rolling a white knight in his hand, "Where'd you find this?"

Thor hesitated, his hand lingering on a white bishop.

"My brother...made them for my nameday many years ago," he explained.

The memory was still bright and sharp in his mind of that nameday. Mostly, because Loki had enchanted the entire palace so that anything Thor touched turned into berry tarts – including Sif, when Thor tried to pull her in for a kiss. Loki had been absent the entire day, of course, until he showed up in Thor's room in the middle of the night, his grin nearly a beacon in the blackness. Startled, Thor had assumed that another nightmare had woken his brother – though that was ridiculous, because Loki had stopped coming to him for comfort long before that – until Loki had slipped a finely wrought box into his hands and whispered a cheerful congratulations. He'd vanished too quickly for Thor to take out his anger at being pranked, but Thor had made sure to give him a – brotherly – pounding the next day before thanking him for the fine gift.

"Wow," Steve breathed in surprise, trying to imagine Loki carving the entire set, "How?"

"Magic," Thor chuckled, "He enchanted it as well so that we could continue our games even while in separate realms. When he…fell, I had hoped to reach him through it. He would call it foolish; after all, he surely has forgotten it by now."

"His…fall really beat you up, didn't it?" Steve asked, immediately berating himself for such a stupid question, "I'm sorry – that was really dumb. It's probably still-"

Thor chuckled and waved the offence away with a hand.

"It is nothing, Steve," he reassured, the name still strange when he'd known the man for so little a time, "Loki's absence was deeply felt by all of Asgard, no matter how he may scoff at the thought. I was not the only one to lose a brother with his fall."

Steve nodded slightly, sliding his rook out. While he couldn't compare his life to that of thousands-of-years-old deities, he got the whole losing a brother deal. Throughout the war, he'd lost many – Bucky most prominent among them. He didn't think the loss of a blood brother could cause a more painful ache than that one.

"Do you think you guys will ever be like that again? Like you used to be," he queried, curious.

"No," Thor admitted reluctantly, "We are both much too changed to return to the way we once were. I can only hope that we can find something better and new, now."

His mother had always told them that they were two parts of a two-piece puzzle – entirely different and unique but reliant on each and whole together – and Thor couldn't help thinking that that puzzle had been dropped in a puddle and torn to bits by wolves, but he also didn't believe that ragged edges couldn't be met.

"That's…I think that's a good plan," Steve replied after a moment.

"If nothing else, I have always been able to best Loki in the arena of stubbornness," Thor grinned cheerily, "and _that_ has certainly not changed."

* * *

**AN:** For those of you wanting to hear what the brothers had to say...sorry? I don't think either Loki or Tony are very direct people, and while Thor and Steve are, both [to me] are too polite to broach a subject that might be too awkward/painful. That said, I actually want to write the next chapter :D [I really didn't want to write this one. Chapter Nine kept popping into my head and doing the disco till I paid attention.]

** DragonSiren7 **- I love Deadpool! [or at least, how much I've seen on the interwebs and my Deadpool-obsess friend has shown me] Unfortunately, I can't think of how to work him being Loki's kid into the story - largely because I don't have a very good grasp of his character. But it's a cool idea...I'll see what I can do (:


	9. Chapter 9

After that, things went smoothly for a couple of weeks – or, at least, as smoothly as life could go when referring to a group of superhumans and aliens determined to defend the world against other superhumans and aliens bent on taking over the world. Neither brother apologized, HYDRA tried to kidnap Natasha, and then Amora showed up and turned Loki into a kid. Basically.

They found him sitting cross legged in a loose green tunic, black pants and no shoes despite being perched on top of a heap of splintered, magic-laced cement and metal, and it quickly became apparent that this Loki had no idea where he was or why – but he was infinitely more cheerful than his general counterpart would have been at that.

"Brother, what is the last you can recall?" Thor inquired once they were safely ensconced on the quinjet.

His just-under-four-foot frame was curled up into Thor's side while the boy toyed with the edge of his tunic.

"Hmm… Amora was there – we were… Were we practicing spells?" he queried before a disgusted pause, "She wasn't trying to cast a love spell on you again, was she?"

The exasperation with which that was said had Bruce biting his lip to keep from laughing.

"No, she was not," Thor grimaced, "Can you make any doubles?"

The little boy's forehead crinkled in familiar confusion at this strange request, but he shrugged, "How many?"

"Try three," Thor suggested, still trying to pinpoint what age his brother was currently.

The frown remained, but Loki leaned his head back against the jet's wall and closed his eyes. A moment later, three replicas of himself popped up. Though they lacked any gilded edges or crackling that told of Loki's magic being spread too thin, a swipe of Tony's hand revealed them to be incorporeal. A thin layer of sweat caused a sheen on Loki's forehead, and the creases deepened as soon as his magic came in contact with Tony's skin.

"Was that necessary?" Loki demanded, opening venom green eyes.

"Sorry, lil' buddy; we're just trying to figure this out," Steve soothed.

The miniature Asgardian prince's eyes narrowed slightly before he sighed, and the illusions vanished. Snuggling closer to his brother, Loki yawned lazily and quickly dozed off. It was an eight hour flight back, and the tiny god spent the entirety asleep.

"I always used to tease him about sleeping so much," Thor chuckled lowly.

"He's like a cat," Tony muttered, curiosity causing him to poke the kid; Loki didn't move.

"He's tiny," Bruce added.

"I think the Other Guy's talking," Clint remarked dryly.

"No, I'm serious," Bruce replied, "He's a frost giant, right? But he's small for a _human_ boy."

The team paused a moment to glance over the small boy who had gradually wrapped himself around one of Thor's bulky arms in his sleep. Thor had murmured – as much as Thor could murmur – that Loki was about ten, but JARVIS had read him at only three eleven – almost half a foot shorter than average.

"Loki has always been of a slight build," Thor started hesitantly.

"Yeah, but he's a frost _giant_," Tony objected, "JARVIS, can you take any other readings while he sleeps?"

"He appears to be in the beginning stages of cachexia, some mild hypotension and a severe iron deficiency, sir," JARVIS offered.

"Uh translate, please?" Clint snorted.

"They're symptoms of malnutrition and starvation," Tony answered for the currently stunned Bruce.

"But Loki eats like Thor," Natasha pointed out bluntly.

"But if he's a giant, then he probably needs more food," Bruce protested, "How tall are jotunns usually?"

Thor grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Loki is fine," he reassured futilely, "He is not one to suffer undue discomfort."

"B-" Clint started, only to be drowned out by the sound of the quinjet's back opening.

They'd arrived at Stark Tower and Loki woke up just in time to bound off and chatter excitedly about this gleaming spire. Thor followed more reluctantly, still mulling over his teammates' concerns.

"This is almost as tall as Penningr!" he exclaimed, leaning way too far over the edge of the roof.

And for the next two days, it was all pretty much the same: Loki raced around and disappeared randomly in the building, which made Steve and Tony freak out for entirely different reasons, and once they found him, he'd automatically crash in the first person's arms. That coupled with the fact that he absolutely idolized his big brother was enough to have everyone wondering what the hell happened between them to screw it up so badly.

Then, the Frost Giants showed up.

"What do you want, Jotunn?" Thor rumbled, fully decked out in armor and hammer, "You know full well that your kind is banished from Midgard under pain of death."

One of the giants – who were actual, bona fide giants whose necks were bent to prevent their heads going through the ceiling – rumbled a low, irritated growl. Both wore only knee length kilts of some silky black fabric, though the quieter one also sported a few gold adornments about the top of his kilt and his biceps.

"We come seeking Prince Loki Laufeyson," the unadorned one declared, his voice like gravel and whiskey and three packs a day.

"Laufey's son?" the still-mini-Loki queried worriedly, peeking out from behind Thor, "Brother, what are they talking about?"

The giant who hadn't spoken immediately jerked forward, causing Loki to throw his hands up and whisper a sharp spell; green fire shot up in a cylinder around him, and the entire room could smell burning flesh as the giant ignored this to settle his hand on the small boy's shoulder. It took only moments before the miniature Loki was gone, and they were all forcefully reminded of Loki's heritage.

"Holy fuck," Tony whispered as, behind them, Darcy – freshly hired as Coulson's assistant – dropped the entire sheaf of papers she'd held.

Pearlescent flames still danced about him, stretching and reaching for Loki's hands, still long fingered and dainty despite now belonging to an eight foot or so giant, as they twitched and the fire died. Ocean blue skin stretched over similar, longer bones and ruby eyes glared down from where emeralds generally perched. Ridges of a deeper blue cut jagged lines across his entire frame to disappear underneath the same clothing he generally wore, and Darcy silently prayed that she wasn't the only one itching to see the rest of those intricate whorls.

"Your Highness," the giants uttered, kneeling, "we come bearing the invitation of his majesty King Helbindi Laufeyson of Jotunheim."

"As you know from speaking with Odin All-father," Loki ground out, "your invitation has been politely declined."

Bruce frowned slightly at that, wondering how blunt one had to be to be considered rude if Loki's baleful glare and grit teeth were still under 'polite.'

"Having received word that you were under thrall, Your Highness, Helbindi-king desired to receive confirmation from yourself, Your Highness," the giant with the scorched hand explained.

"As you can see, there is no thrall," Loki snapped shortly, "Now return to your king."

The burnt giant nodded slightly and rose, careful to avoid the ceiling (while Tony's ceilings were inordinately high, they were hardly designed with Frost Giants in mind). His red eyes rested thoughtfully on Loki.

"As you are kin, our doors will ever be open," he offered quietly, resting a hand fleetingly on the other's shoulder.

Loki flinched at the contact before his gaze softened slightly, and green magic swirled briefly around the giant's burnt hand, mending the skin and leaving it the same cerulean as the rest of the jotunn's body. With a nod of gratitude, the giant stepped back and, placing a hand on his companion's shoulder, disappeared. Immediately, Loki's shoulders slumped and he rubbed the bridge of his nose as he shrunk down and blue bled to white.

"Are you alright, brother?" Thor queried worriedly, his hammer lowered and the electricity vanishing from the air.

"I'm fine, Thor," Loki snapped, sharp green eyes glaring over at him.

"You guys want to sit down and explain what just happened?" Clint suggested.

There was a moment's pause with only the sound of Darcy and Bruce trying to gather all the dropped papers up, then Loki reluctantly accepted a seat at the bar, and Thor stepped slightly closer, readjusting Mjolnir so she dangled from his wrist.

"The Jotunn king is convinced I am here unwillingly and seeks to…liberate me," Loki explained tiredly, frustration bleeding through his tone.

"Our father has reassured them – _repeatedly _– that Loki is here of his own volition, but they seem…_reluctant_ to believe us," Thor added, and there was the faintest stir of electricity.

"That's what was stalling the peace talks with – er – Jotunheim?" Steve queried, fitting together the pieces.

Thor nodded slightly.

"Aye, though, hopefully, that should no longer be an issue," the sigh in his voice somehow completely conveyed the silent _though, I doubt it_.

"Why do they care? Sorry, Loki, but I mean – you tried to destroy their whole planet, right?" Clint pointed out, "Shouldn't they be happy if you were punished?"

Both brothers were silent for a long while, Loki studiously examining the flecks in the countertop while Thor crossed his arms and averted his gaze. Natasha's eyes narrowed to a veritable glare that somehow managed to encompass both of them while the other four alternately stared at the brothers, Natasha and each other.

"I…We share a father," Loki finally forced out, his voice constricted with undisguised revulsion and loathing.

Something clicked in Tony's brain to give him an a little bit frightening look of epiphany, Steve 'oh'ed' softly and Clint glanced between Natasha and Loki one more time.

"So you're brothers? With the king?" he asked.

"Yes," Loki conceded icily.

"Ah. So that's why-" Bruce murmured, "with Jotunheim…"

He swallowed the rest of his words, because of course. The kind of hatred one would need to try to destroy an entire planet – well, it stemmed from the same strain that had placed a gun in Bruce's hand and the muzzle in his mouth.

Loki was watching him with a quiet sort of intensity that caused Bruce to shift awkwardly and scrub at his glasses.

* * *

**AN: **And if that isn't the worst ending ever, I don't know what is. Also, listen to "When You're Evil" by Voltaire. I can't stop listening :D I'll try to get a new chapter up soonish, but really, I have no idea what to write about. This chapter needs some expansion


	10. Chapter 10

Red – red everywhere: clinging to her skin, dripping down her armor like thick vermillion sweat, coating the knife in her hand and the hand about the knife. All around her, screams rent the air as surely as sabers flesh, the sky was darkened – was that Thor's thunder she heard? Or just the screaming of Yggdrasil drowning in flame? – and the once-golden plain burnt black and red. Flowers and grasses were gone, the floor of the field reinstalled as lumps of burnt and beaten bodies. Corpses of those both recently alive and long dead littered the field, but neither Hela nor the Valkyries stopped to guide their souls. They were otherwise occupied against each other.

Weighing the knife in her hand, she turned and sought its potential target. Thor was just beyond that hill, out of range; Sleipnir had reared, making his underbelly Odin's shield; there was Tyr, and…ah! Heimdall. Of course – she _had _been waiting for him.

"Heimdall, old friend," she chuckled, "How is Ragnarok treating you?"

The gilded guardian said nothing, merely adjusted his great sword to swing at Loki's head. The trickster ducked, of course, slipping underneath the blade while her own sword dissolved into her grip. This was a battle not meant for knives and well-aimed throws. For once, she'd cede to Asgard's wishes, even as she burnt her to the ground.

Oddly matched, they danced in parries and thrusts and sidesteps with all the grace of inevitability. Granted, it was mostly a one-sided dance, as nothing in all the Nine would ever coerce Loki into saying _Heimdall_ danced. The stately guardian was far too somber for such a term, even in face of Ragnarok. Surely, there was something wrong with one who could maintain such a blank visage in the end of all.

They continued thus for what seemed mere minutes and yet eons at once, until the ground shook and echoed with the heavy thud of Jormugandr's fall, and Thor's silhouette appeared on the hill's crest, gilded in firelight. Loki froze, her heart beating too fast of a sudden; the laughing calm she'd maintained thoughtlessly fell to bits as her lover took the first of his last steps.

"No, Thor," she hissed, counting the steps, "Stop!"

Six left. Why couldn't he ever just listen?

"Thor – _oh_," Loki breathed in surprise, staring down at the blade suddenly protruding from her midsection. That was unexpected.

She cocked her head curiously at Heimdall before a flick of her wrist sent him up in flames, the sword as well. Absently, she noted that turning the sword already piercing her torso into fire was probably a bad decision. _Ah, well. Add it to the list_. She wondered, inanely, as she ran to Thor's shaky form, if there was some great record-keeper on high who tallied up each soul's misdeeds and mistakes. If there were, she mused, they'd probably blacked out her column by now and simply written 'No good – eternally damned' up top. It would be easier for them in the long run.

"Thor, _stop moving_!" she called, her voice hoarse and scratched.

Two left.

The thunderer swayed on his feet, his brilliant shock of hay-gold hair dirtied by blood, sweat and the filth of battle. For a moment, his bronzed face crinkled as if in thought, considering her order. Then, of course, he ignored it and took his last step.

"_NO!" _she screamed, reaching out for him even as her legs gave way.

"Brother, please," Thor whispered, his voice strangely full for a dead man.

_No_, that wasn't right. She was most definitely not his brother – despite herself, Loki shuddered at the thought. Loose and lewd as others may dub her, she would _never_ sleep with a blood relation. They weren't even the same race. Tilting her head, she was more than a little startled to find her chest a bit broader and flatter, hair cut just below her ears and her body in general far more muscular. _Funny, I don't remember shifting before dying…_

Loki woke with the same tired reluctance as always. He had never quite figured out whether he actually relived these memories or if he was merely dreaming; the aching fatigue throughout his body suggested the former, but the fact that he was still sprawled out in his bed made it seem rather unlikely.

"Brother, please, Captain Rogers would have words with us," Thor entreated in his best attempt at a soft tone. It was an undeniable failure.

Cursing softly, Loki curled tighter into his blankets; could he not get _one_ _hour_ of undisturbed rest? Unfortunately, Thor seemed to perk up at the profanity.

"Loki? Have you ris-" Thor cut off as his voice suddenly found itself straining in silence.

As the silence settled, Loki smiled and closed his eyes. It was a simple spell that he'd often used when they were younger, and soon enough, it would wear off. For now, though, he followed the tug on his mind and fell off the plane.

They always met in the same place: a candlelit cave in the middle of nothing with a narrow channel cut into the rock by the lazy, cheerful stream. Each would sit on their respective sides, Loki with his back against the wall and legs crossed at the ankle and Sigyn with her legs tucked neatly to the side with her dress spilling gracefully over them.

As he slid down into his familiar spot, the trickster stifled a small frown. She was distracted – stirring ripples into the water – and that never boded well.

"Love," he purred, affection doing its best to hide the echo in his voice.

Tugging her bottom lip between her teeth, Sigyn forced herself not to slip away to the corporeal plane. She knew that hollow, haunted voice like an old childhood nightmare; Loki's nightmares had often led her to find him sitting on their balcony with eyes of the void and resurrection on his mind. In general, she'd always drag him back to bed and chase away the memories with kisses and touches that left them both exhausted and exhilarated, but none of that could be had here. Much to her occasional dismay, the astral plane was one of fragile states in which any interaction of energy could burn and bend the soul like metal in a too-hot forge.

"What news from Vanaheim?" he prompted when she was silent.

"None from home. In Asgard, negotiations have soured further," she started finally, "The All-father is furious that the jotunns would break the truce – most especially because they doubted his word."

Loki snorted, "Oath-breaker is meant to be a reassuring title?"

Sigyn smiled faintly, though she kept her gaze down. Sighing quietly, Loki leaned back and watched her tiredly. She never bothered much with keeping things from him, and there were only certain times in which she'd be evasive (though, really, she was so terrible at hiding her thoughts that even Thor could tell that something was amiss). Her Sight, namely, was among them.

"What is it, sweet?" he queried, "Is another Odinsson on the way?"

He'd killed Balder enough times; he had no wish for further opportunities.

"No," Sigyn shook her head, auburn locks bouncing slightly with the motion, "but a Lokason is."

As expected, his entire body stiffened and stilled for a long moment (it was one of the curious effects of astral projection that every movement in the body could stop, from the beat of the heart to the firing of synapses. Emotion was impossible to mask.). Sigyn watched, still worrying her bottom lip, before finally offering her one escape.

"I can…get rid of it," she suggested hesitantly, trying to fortify her voice against her own trepidation.

For a brief second, Loki nearly latched onto the idea. It was so simple – one spell would easily do the trick, and then they'd just be careful, and perhaps, this time, it could all be avoided. One glance at her face, bravely stoic, though, reminded him of all the disasters that had occurred whenever he attempted to evade fate. Even the doomed invasion had been little more than the Norns punishing him for trying to end his tale too soon.

"No, no never that," he reassured, "I would never ask that of you."

She offered a wan smile of gratitude. Yes, she was relieved that she would not have to slay the unborn babe within her, but she had seen the conclusion of their tale, and it was hardly a happy one.

"You, better than anyone, know what will become of this, if he is born," she reminded.

Acid, screams and rancid chains flickered briefly through his memory.

"Yes, I do," he agreed, "but perhaps this time will be different. We've never had a daughter."

The lie was a feeble one to both of them. _And we never will_, Sigyn added silently, but the half-hearted hopefulness in his tone was enough to silence that correction. There was always the chance that, for the first time in a thousand lives, they would have a happy ending. It never hurt to try.

"Perhaps," she agreed softly, starting to fade.

Her hand brushed briefly against his as the room dissolved, and Loki slumped back into his bed as a new fist's rapping sounded on his door. It was lighter than Thor's at least, which was certainly an improvement – though, admittedly, Tony Stark at eight in the morning wasn't much better.

"Hey, Lokesters, I know you're awake. You're the only one who can actually mute people, and while quiet Thor is a whole kind of creepy on his own, we really need you to come out now. Cap's got a pow-wow going down, something about the whole Big, Bad and Blue De-" the man rambled.

Loki's door swung open to reveal a full dressed, eyebrow-quirked Norse god. Tony paused a moment to stare at him, because _hello _– definitely did not get dressed that quickly, which meant magic. _No, not magic. Just really, really advanced science._

"Huh. So you _weren't_ trying to sleep in," he declared.

"I was speaking with Sigyn," Loki answered as they started down the hall.

Tony paused a moment, something nagging in his mind that silenced the immediate 'how?'. He _knew_ he knew, but the answer seemed to be tucked in behind the golden fog of inebriation, and was therefore irretrievable. Somehow, he thought it might have to do with the mostly-dismantled, magic-laced phone he'd found in the lab, but he really couldn't say.

"Anyway, Capsicle wants to talk to us about communication or something. Which is ridiculous – I mean, the whole 'Hulk, smash,' 'Clint, shoot,' 'Tony, save the day,' thing seems to be working just fine. I just don't get how finding out that one member of the team is secretly a big, frosty blue giant is that big a deal. Really…" he continued.

Before the man had gotten halfway through his monologue, Loki had shut him out from all but the most peripheral of hearing; Stark was one of the very few beings in all the Nine Realms who could possibly outtalk the Silvertongue. _Nari_, he mused, the name as familiar and pain-riddled as ever. There was always the chance that things would end differently. No one had said that Ragnarok's cycle need repeat forever.

As they reached the conference room, the door swung open and Loki pushed the thought of his once and future son from his mind. Eventually, he would have to face his fate again and he would have to return to Asgard, perhaps even Jotunheim.

The door swung open, and he absently lifted the spell on Thor. Almost immediately, he regretted that decision.

"Brother!" the thunderer pouted, "That was most unseemly."

_Add it to the record book_, he suggested as Thor continued to expound on the rudeness of silencing a cautious wake-up call, Steve struggled to find a semblance of order, and Tony fished out ice cubes to test whether they turned Loki's skin blue. For now, some things would always stay the same.

* * *

**AN:** And there you have it! Cheesy, dorky and cliche - just the way you like it (hopefully). I'll keep uploading my other random scribbles, but this little bit of nonsense has reached its end. Thanks for all the wonderful support throughout this story - it's really meant a lot.


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